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LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

AND  SOME 

EXPERIENCES  AND  SKETCHES 

OF  SOUTHERN   LIFE 


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LIFE  IN  THE 

CONFEDERATE 

ARMY 

BEING  PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES  OF  A  PRIVATE  SOLDIER 
IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

BY 

ARTHUR  P.  FORD 

AND  SOME 

EXPERIENCES  AND  SKETCHES 
OF  SOUTHERN    LIFE 

BY 
MARION  JOHNSTONE  FORD 

NEW  YORK  AND  WASHINGTON 

THE  NEALE  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 
1905 


COPYRIGHT,  1905 
BY   ARTHUR   P.   FOR  D 


CONTENTS. 


Life  in  the  Confederate  Army 7 

Kent — A  War-time  Negro 73 

Hose    Blankets 88 

Some  Letters   Written  During  the  Last  Months  of 

the    War 100 

Tay 129 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

BEING  PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES  OF  A  PRIVATE  SOLDIER 
IN    THE    CONFEDERATE   ARMY 

The  following  account  of  my  experiences  as  a  pri- 
vate soldier  in  the  Confederate  Army  during-  the  great 
war  of  i86i-'65  records  only  the  ordinary  career  of 
an  ordinary  Confederate  soldier.  It  does  not  treat 
of  campaigns,  army  maneuvers,  or  plans  of  battles, 
but  only  of  the  daily  life  of  a  common  soldier,  and  of 
such  things  as  fell  under  his  limited  observation. 

Early  in  April,  1861,  immediately  after  the  battle 
of  Fort  Sumter,  I  joined  the  Palmetto  Guards, 
Capt.  George  B.  Cuthbert,  of  the  Seventeenth  Regi- 
ment South  Carolina  Militia.  Very  soon  after,  the 
company  divided,  and  one  half  under  Captain  Cuth- 
bert left  Charleston,  and  joined  the  Second  South 
Carolina  Volunteers  in  Virginia.  The  other  half,  to 
which  I  belonged,  under  Capt.  George  L.  Buist,  re- 
mained in  Charleston.  Early  in  the  fall  Captain 
Buist's  company  was  ordered  to  Coosawhatchie,  and 
given  charge  of  four  howitzers ;  and  thenceforth  for 
three  years,  until  December,  1864,  it  served  as  field 
artillery.  I  did  not  go  with  my  company,  as  at  that 
time  I  was  a  clerk  in  the  Charleston  post-office,  and 


8  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

really  exempt  from  all  service.  On  April  2,  1862, 
however,  then  being  about  eighteen  years  of  age,  I 
resigned  my  clerkship,  and  joining  the  company  at 
Coosawhatchie,  with  the  rest  of  the  men  enlisted  in 
the  Confederate  service  "for  three  years  or  the  war." 
About  May  1st  the  company  was  ordered  to  Bat- 
tery Island  at  the  mouth  of  the  Stono  River,  where 
with  another  company,  the  "Gist  Guards,"  Capt. 
Chichester,  we  were  put  under  the  command  of 
Major  C.  K.  Huger,  and  placed  in  charge  of  four 
24-pounder  smooth-bore  guns  in  the  battery  com- 
manding the  river,  our  own  four  howitzers  being 
parked  in  the  rear.  Cole's  Island,  next  below,  and  at 
the  immediate  entrance  of  the  river,  was  garrisoned 
by  Lucas'  battalion  of  Regulars,  and  the  Twenty- 
fourth  Regiment  South  Carolina  Volunteers,  Col.  C. 
H.  Stevens.  An  examination  of  a  map  of  this  local- 
ity will  show  that  Cole's  Island  was  the  key  to 
Charleston;  and  this  question  has  given  rise  to  con- 
siderable acrimonious  discussion.  But  whatever  the 
merits  of  the  case  may  have  been,  the  facts  are,  that 
under  the  strange  fear  of  the  Federal  gunboats  that 
obtained  on  the  South  Carolina  coast  at  that  period, 
it  was  believed  that  our  positions  on  Cole's  and  Bat- 
tery Islands  could  not  be  held  against  an  attack  from 
the  gunboats,  which  then  were  off  the  mouth  of  the 
river;  and  the  islands  were  evacuated.  On  the  18th 
the  Federals  sent  a  couple  of  small  boats  into  the 
mouth  of  the  river  to  reconnoiter,  but  they  were  soon 
driven  back  by  our  pickets.     On  the  next  day,  and 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  9 

day  after,  all  the  guns  were  removed  from  both 
islands  to  Fort  Pemberton,  higher  up  the  Stono 
River — a  very  strong  earth  fort  that  had  been  built 
in  preparation  for  this  move.  A  day  or  two  after, 
while  our  men  were  still  on  Battery  Island,  but  Cole's 
Island  having  been  deserted,  several  Federal  gun- 
boats entered  the  river,  shelling  the  woods  and  empty 
batteries  as  they  advanced.  On  their  approach  we 
set  fire  to  the  barracks  and  then  withdrew  across  the 
causeway  to  James  Island.  We  had  to  make  haste 
across  this  causeway,  because  it  was  within  easy 
range  of  the  enemy,  who  soon  began  to  rake  it  with 
shells. 

This  was  my  first  experience  with  shell  fire,  and  I 
soon  learned  that  at  long  range,  to  men  in  the  field, 
if  the  shells  did  not  explode  it  was  more  alarming 
than  dangerous.  But  being  quite  fresh  I  thought  it 
unbecoming  to  appear  concerned,  and  although  at 
first,  after  crossing  the  causeway,  I  had  stood  wisely 
behind  a  friendly  oak  tree  for  protection,  after  the 
first  shell  or  two  I  stepped  aside  and  stood  in  the 
open,  foolishly  thinking  that  this  was  more  soldierly. 
I  had  not  yet  learned  that  a  soldier's  common  sense 
should  prompt  him  to  make  use  of  what  protection 
there  may  be  at  hand  and  to  avoid  exposing  himself 
unnecessarily.  But  only  when  duty  calls,  to  throw 
precaution  aside  and  face  whatever  there  is.  While 
we  were  standing  on  the  James  Island  side  of  the 
causeway  a  time-fuse  shell  fell  near  us,  and  one  of 
our  men,  a  new  recruit,  ran  up  to  it,  and  stood  over 


10  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

it  with  the  exclamation,  "How  the  thing  does  hiss !" 
Happily  the  fuse  failed  and  the  shell  did  not  explode. 
When  I  saw  the  fortunate  termination  of  the  affair 
I  could  not  resist  calling  out,  "Surely  the  Lord  pro- 
tects drunken  men  and  fools." 

Our  company  fell  back  from  here  to  a  plantation 
about  a  mile  inland,  where  we  made  our  camp.  I 
was  a  very  enthusiastic,  energetic  youngster,  and  in 
pitching  our  large  Sibley  tent  worked  with  such 
energy  that  I  attracted  the  attention  of  one  of  our 
men,  Mr.  H.  Gourdin  Young,  who  jokingly  said, 
"Ford,  you  are  a  splendid  worker.  If  you  were  a 
negro,  I  would  buy  you."  He  was  very  much  my 
senior. 

After  remaining  here  for  about  two  months,  our 
men  doing  some  picket  duty,  we  were  transferred  to 
Fort  Pemberton,  a  very  strong  earthwork  of  16  guns, 
on  the  Stono  River,  and  garrisoned  by  Lucas'  bat- 
talion of  Regulars,  in  which  my  brother  was  a  lieu- 
tenant.    Here  we  remained  for  about  three  months. 

Frequently  the  Federal  gunboats  would  ascend  the 
river,  and  there  would  be  interchanges  of  shots  be- 
tween them  and  the  fort.  On  one  of  these  occasions 
an  amusing  incident  occurred.  Lieutenant  Webb,  of 
our  company,  had  just  got  a  new  negro  man  servant, 
who  was  inexperienced  in  warfare.  One  afternoon, 
as  a  few  shells  were  being  thrown  at  the  fort  from 
the  gunboats,  he  was  very  much  scared,  saying, 
"Dem  people  trow  dem  t'ings  about  yere  so  careless, 
dey  won't  mind  until  dey  hu't  somebody."    Just  then 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  11 

a  shell  passed  over  the  fort,  and  exploding  in  the 
rear,  a  piece  cut  off  a  leg  of  Lieutenant  Webb's 
horse.  "Dere  now ;  w'at  I  tell  you !"  exclaimed  Sam. 
"Dey  done  kill  Mass  Ben's  horse." 

During  the  early  period  of  the  war  a  great  many 
of  the  private  soldiers  in  the  Confederate  Army  had 
their  own  negro  servants  in  the  field  with  them,  who 
waited  on  their  masters,  cleaned  their  horses,  cooked 
their  meals,  etc.  Attached  to  our  company  there 
were  probably  twenty-five  such  servants.  This  sys- 
tem continued  during  the  first  year  or  two  of  the  war, 
on  the  Carolina  coast,  but  later  on,  as  the  service  got 
harder  and  rations  became  scarcer,  these  negro  ser- 
vants were  gradually  sent  back  home,  and  the  men 
did  their  own  work,  cooking,  etc.  As  a  rule,  these 
negroes  liked  the  life  exceedingly.  The  work  exact- 
ed of  them  was  necessarily  very  light.  They  were 
never  under  fire,  unless  they  chose  to  go  there  of 
their  own  accord,  which  some  of  them  did,  keeping 
close  to  their  masters.  And  they  spent  much  of  their 
time  foraging  around  the  neghboring  country.  Al- 
though often  on  the  picket  lines,  night  as  well  as  day, 
with  their  masters,  I  never  heard  of  an  instance 
where  one  of  these  army  servants  deserted  to  the 
enemy. 

At  this  period  of  the  war  the  Confederate  Govern- 
ment allowed  each  soldier  a  certain  sum  yearly  for 
his  uniform,  and  each  company  decided  for  itself 
what  its  own  uniform  should  be.  In  consequence, 
"uniform"  was  really  an  inappropriate  term  to  apply 


12  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

to  the  dress  of  various  organizations.  At  first  our 
company  was  uniformed  in  gray  woolen  frock  coats, 
and  trousers  of  the  same  material,  with  blue  caps ; 
next  we  had  gray  cotton  coats  and  trousers  with  gray 
cloth  hats ;  then  very  dark  brown  coats  with  blue 
trousers  furnished  by  the  government,  and  gray  felt 
hats;  and  finally  the  gray  round  jacket,  also  furnish- 
ed by  the  government,  which  assumed  to  provide 
also  the  hats,  shoes,  and  underclothing.  The  shoes, 
when  we  could  get  them,  were  heavy  English 
brogans,  very  hard  on  mir  feet,  but  durable.  It  was 
in  the  summer  of  1862  that  we  received  our  first  al- 
lowance for  uniforms,  and  our  quartermaster  applied 
to  a  tailor  in  Charleston  to  furnish  them,  but  there 
was  considerable  delay  in  getting  them,  and  the  tailor 
wrote  that  goods  were  then  scarce  on  account  of  the 
moonlight  nights,  but  that  in  about  a  fortnight,  when 
the  moon  waned,  they  would  be  in  greater  supply, 
and  the  uniforms  could  be  furnished  at  $2  more  per 
man  than  the  government  allowed.  So  in  clue  time 
we  each  supplemented  the  government's  allowance 
and  got  new  uniforms  of  very  inferior,  half  cotton 
gray  stuff,  which  served  us  for  the  rest  of  the  year. 
Afterwards  the  government  tried  to  furnish  the  men 
gratuitously  with  the  best  it  could,  and  we  did  the 
best  we  could  with  what  we  got. 

In  July  our  command  was  removed  to  Charleston, 
under  orders  to  go  to  Virginia.  These  orders  were 
countermanded  in  a  few  days  owing  to  aggressive 
movements  of  the  Federals  on  the  South  Carolina 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  13 

coast.  The  remainder  of  the  summer  and  the  fall 
were  spent  in  Charleston  encamped  for  most  of  the 
time  at  the  Washington  race  course,  doing  duty  on 
the  lines  of  breastworks  thrown  up  across  the  neck 
just  above  Magnolia  Cemetery.  These  breastworks 
were  built  to  keep  any  enemy  out  of  the  city,  but  the 
nearest  enemy  on  land  at  that  period  was  on  Folley 
Island ;  in  Tennessee  to  the  west ;  and  Virginia  to  the 
North.  And  when  Sherman  did  come  within  50 
miles  of  Charleston  nearly  three  years  later  our 
troops  were  too  much  occupied  in  getting  away  to 
think  of  these  breastworks.  The  battalion  then  con- 
sisted of  three  companies,  each  armed  with  four  8- 
inch  howitzers,  and  all  under  the  command  of  Maj. 
Charles  Alston,  Jr.,  Capt.  Buist  having  been  promo- 
ted to  major,  and  assigned  to  duty  near  Savannah. 

While  encamped  on  the  race  course  I  witnessed 
the  military  execution  of  a  deserter.  The  man  be- 
longed to  one  of  the  regiments  doing  duty  about 
Charleston,  and  had  been  taken  in  the  act  of  trying 
to  desert  to  the  enemy;  tried  by  court  martial  and 
condemned  to  death.  On  the  day  fixed  for  the  exe- 
cution, some  of  the  troops  in  Charleston  were 
marched  up  to  the  race  course,  and  so  formed  as  to 
make  three  sides  of  a  square.  Immediately  after  fol- 
lowed a  wagon,  with  the  coffin,  and  seated  on  it,  the 
man  with  his  hands  tied,  and  under  guard ;  the  whole 
preceded  by  a  band  playing  the  dead  march ;  and  fol- 
lowed by  the  detail  of  twelve  men  selected  by  lot  to 
shoot  him.     Half  the  rifles  were  loaded  with  balls 


14  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

and  half  with  blank  cartridges,  but  none  of  the  detail 
knew  how  his  own  was  loaded.  As  the  procession 
halted  the  coffin  was  placed  on  the  ground  and  the 
deserter  had  his  hands  untied,  and  knelt  in  front 
of  it  facing  the  twelve  men  who  were  to  do  the  shoot- 
ing, and  were  drawn  up  about  thirty  feet  in  front  of 
him.  At  the  word  of  command  "aim,"  the  man, 
seemingly  in  desperation,  jerked  open  his  shirt  and 
bared  his  breast  to  the  bullets.  Instantly  at  the  com- 
mand "fire"  the  detail  fired,  and  the  man  fell  over 
dead  on  his  coffin.  It  was  the  most  terrible  sight  I 
ever  saw,  far  more  dreadful  than  anything  I  ever  wit- 
nessed in  battle,  and  it  seemed  a  sad  thing  that  a 
really  brave  man  should  be  so  sacrificed ;  but  such  is 
one  of  the  necessities  of  war,  and  it  is  necessary  to 
deter  others  from  playing  the  role  of  traitor. 

At  this  time  the  Federal  gunboats  were  very  an- 
noying in  Stono  River,  coming  as  high  up  as  possi- 
ble daily,  and  shelling  our  pickets,  and  it  was  deter- 
mined to  make  a  diversion.  Therefore,  in  January, 
1863,  our  battery  with  Capt.  Smith's  and  other  troops 
were  sent  over  to  John's  Island,  and  ambushed  at 
Legare's  point  place  to  cooperate  with  two  compa- 
nies of  Lucas'  battalion  and  some  other  troops  on 
James  Island.  The  design  was  to  capture  the  Isaac 
P.  Smith.  This  vessel  was  an  iron  screw  steamer  of 
453  tons,  and  carried  eight  8-inch  navy  guns,  or  six- 
ty-four pounders,  and  a  7-inch  thirty-pounder  Par- 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  15 

rott  gun.  She  was  commanded  at  the  time  by  Capt. 
F.  S.  Conover;  and  her  crew  consisted  of  n  officers 
and  105  men. 

The  affair  was  completely  successful.  The  gun- 
boat in  her  daily  ascent  was  taken  by  surprise,  and 
after  a  short  fight  at  only  75  or  100  yards  distance, 
as  she  ran  trying  to  escape,  had  her  steam  drum  torn 
by  a  shell,  and  had  to  surrender.  She  had  twenty- 
three  men  killed  and  wounded,  while  we  lost  one 
man  killed.  My  howitzer  was  at  a  sharp  bend  in  the 
river,  and  as  the  gunboat  ran  past,  her  stern  was  di- 
rectly about  100  yards  in  front  of  the  gun  I  served. 
It  put  one  8-inch  schrapnel  shell  into  her  stern  port, 
and  I  learned  afterwards  that  the  shell  knocked  a 
gun  off  its  trunnions  and  killed  or  wounded  eight 
men.  A  prize  crew  was  put  on  board  immediately 
and  the  vessel  towed  by  a  tug  up  the  river,  and  later 
on  to  the  city.  While  the  prisoners  were  being  land- 
ed, the  U.  S.  S.  Commodore  McDonough  steamed 
up  the  river  and  opened  fire  on  us,  but  a  few  well- 
directed  shots  from  our  batteries  soon  made  her 
desist  and  drop  back  down  the  river.  At  nightfall, 
our  command  returned  to  Charleston. 

Our  8-inch  howitzers  were  soon  after  exchanged 
for  four  twelve-pounder  Napoleon  guns,  and  the  bat- 
tery ordered  back  to  James  Island.  Here  in  March 
we  took  part  in  a  land  affair  near  GrimbaH's  place  on 
the  Stono. 

Our  battery  was  encamped  about  a  mile  from  the 
river,  and  at  daybreak  one  morning  we  were  aroused 


16  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

and  hurried  down  the  road  toward  Grimball's  plan- 
tation. Just  before  we  were  about  to  emerge  from 
the  woods  into  a  field,  the  musketry  firing  going  on 
rapidly  on  our  left  front,  and  a  few  shells  from  the 
gunboats  falling  into  the  woods,  wTe  were  halted,  and 
told  that  just  in  front  was  a  field  reaching  to  the 
river,  and  as  soon  as  we  passed  out  of  the  woods  the 
order  "battery  by  right  into  line"  would  be  given. 
Well,  we  started  at  a  rapid  trot.  I  was  driver  of  the 
lead  horses  of  gun  No.  2,  and  as  we  passed  out  of 
the  woods,  in  obedience  to  the  command  I  swung  to 
the  right,  gun  No.  3  swung  to  my  right,  and  No.  4  to 
right  of  No.  3,  while  No.  1  kept  straight  on  down 
the  road,  and  we  all  went  forward  now  at  a  run  into 
battery. 

We  galloped  down  to  the  edge  of  the  marsh  along 
the  river,  and  swinging  into  battery  our  guns  opened 
on  the  U.  S.  S.  Pawnee  out  in  the  river,  the  other 
two  gunboats  being  farther  down,  and  around  a  bend 
of  the  river.  We  were  engaged  for  about  twenty 
minutes,  when  the  Pawnee  dropped  down  the  river, 
and  the  musketry  fire  on  our  left  gradually  ceased. 

It  seems  that  the  Federals  had  advanced  on  the 
island  with  a  force  of  about  2,000  men,  supported  by 
three  gunboats.  They  had  been  met,  and  after  sharp 
fighting,  had  been  driven  back  by  Col.  Gaillard's 
Twenty-fifth  Regiment  South  Carolina  Volunteers, 
the    Marion    Artillery, — a    light    battery, —  and    a 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  17 

Georgia  regiment,  while  our  battery  engaged  the 
Pawnee.  The  Confederate  loss  was  27  men  killed 
and  wounded,  and  the  Federal,  45. 

The  artillery  was  under  the  command  of  Lieut. 
Col.  Delaware  Kemper,  who  sat  on  his  horse  by  our 
battery  during  the  scrimmage.  After  the  affair  was 
over  he  remarked  to  our  captain,  "Captain  Webb, 
you  have  a  splendid  set  of  young  fellows  there,  but 
they  need  practice.  They  could  not  hit  John's  Island 
if  they  had  it  for  a  target."  As  to  our  marksman- 
ship, he  was  mistaken,  however,  for  we  did  put  sev- 
eral shells  into  the  Pawnee,  and  she  had  to  go  to  Port 
Royal  for  repairs. 

In  this  affair,  being  a  driver,  my  position  while 
the  guns  were  in  action  was  standing  by  my  horses 
about  100  feet  in  the  rear  of  my  gun ;  and  it  was  try- 
ing to  have  to  stand  there  quietly,  inactive,  and  take 
the  shells  and  few  rifle  balls  that  passed  by.  It  would 
have  been  much  more  agreeable  to  be  actively  en- 
gaged about  the  gun. 

Only  a  few  moments  after  we  had  got  into  action, 
our  little  company  dog,  a  half-breed  fox-terrier, 
"Boykee,"  who  always  stuck  to  the  guns,  and  seemed 
to  enjoy  the  excitement,  was  struck  in  the  neck  by  a 
piece  of  shell,  directly  in  front  of  where  I  was  stand- 
ing, and  ran  screaming  to  the  rear.  This  wound  was 
not  a  serious  one.  and  he  soon  recovered  from  it. 
He  was  afterwards  ignominiously  killed  by  a  snake 
in  Florida. 


18  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

In  July,  1863,  were  developed  the  disastrous  re- 
sults of  the  evacuation  of  Cole's  Island  in  May  the 
year  before.  As  soon  as  we  left  that  island  and  Bat- 
tery Island  the  Federals  occupied  them,  and  used 
them  as  bases  for  operations  against  Charleston. 
From  there  they  occupied  Folley  Island,  a  densely 
wooded  island  where  their  operations  could  easily  be 
concealed.  They  advanced  to  the  north  end  of  this 
island,  to  Light  House  Inlet,  and  under  the  conceal- 
ment of  the  shrubbery  built  formidable  batteries, 
which  at  daybreak  one  morning  were  unmasked,  and 
under  a  heavy  lire  from  their  guns,  an  infantry 
assault  in  boats  was  made  upon  our  small  force  on 
the  southern  end  of  Morris'  Island.  After  a  severe 
fight  the  Federals  got  a  firm  foothold  upon  this 
island,  which  for  the  next  two  months  or  so  was  the 
scene  of  some  of  the  most  sanguinary  fighting  of  the 
war. 

Immediately  after  this  surprise  by  the  Federals  a 
detachment  of  our  company  was  placed  in  charge  of 
Battery  Haskell,  on  James  Island,  directly  opposite 
Morris'  Island.  The  celebrated  siege  of  Battery 
Wagner  then  began,  and  we  used  to  watch  the  fight- 
ing at  about  three-quarters  of  a  mile  distance.  The 
terrible  bombardment  and  assault  of  July  18  was  one 
of  the  sights  of  the  war.  At  daylight  the  bombard- 
ment of  the  fort  began,  and  continued  without  a 
minute's  cessation  all  day.  Occasionally  as  many  as 
four  shells  were  observed  in  the  air  at  the  same  time. 
The  fort  itself  was  enveloped  in  a  dense  black  pall  of 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  19 

smoke  from  bursting  shells,  and  at  times  was  com- 
pletely hidden.  As  the  afternoon  wore  on  the  bom- 
bardment increased  in  intensity,  and  it  seemed  as  if 
the  very  foundations  of  our  part  of  the  world  were 
being  torn  to  pieces.  The  garrison  was  kept  in  the 
bomb-proof,  and  not  a  shot  was  fired  in  reply.  At 
dusk  the  bombardment  suddenly  ceased,  and  almost 
immediately  the  guns  of  the  Confederates  in  Fort 
Sumter,  trained  on  the  beach  in  front  of  Wagner, 
opened.  Almost  simultaneously  we  saw  a  mass  of 
blue  spring  up  apparently  from  the  earth,  and  ad- 
vance on  Wagner,  and  then  the  rattle  of  musketry. 
As  the  dusk  deepened  into  darkness  the  rapid  flashes 
of  musketry  looked  at  that  distance  like  vast  masses 
of  fireflies,  over  a  morass.  We  saw  that  it  was  an 
infantry  assault,  and  a  desperate  hand-to-hand  fight 
it  was.  But  the  result  was  very  disastrous  to  the 
Federals,  who  were  repulsed  with  a  loss  of  upwards 
of  2,000  men. 

In  August  was  begun  the  bombardment  of  Charles- 
ton, which  was  continued  steadily  for  a  year  and  a 
half.  On  the  night  of  the  21st,  at  10.45  o'clock,  Gen- 
eral Beauregard  received  an  unsigned  note,  brought 
to  our  pickets,  purporting  to  be  from  General  Gil- 
more,  demanding  the  evacuation  and  surrender  of 
Morris'  Island  and  Fort  Sumter  under  penalty  of  the 
bombardment  of  the  city  within  four  hours  after  the 
note  had  been  sent  by  him.  Two  hours  and  three- 
quarters  after  this  note  had  reached  General  Beaure- 
gard's hands,  at  1.30  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the 


20  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

22d,  the  Federal  battery  in  the  marsh  on  the  edge  of 
the  creek  separating  Morris  from  James  Island,  open- 
ed fire,  and  threw  a  number  of  shells  into  the  city.  At 
about  9  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  22d,  seven  and 
a  quarter  hours  after  the  bombardment  had  begun, 
General  Gilmore  sent  a  properly  signed  note  making 
the  same  demands.  This  note  was  immediately  an- 
swered by  General  Beauregard  with  an  emphatic  re- 
fusal, and  some  severe  remarks  as  to  his  firing  upon 
a  city  full  of  women  and  children  before  he  had  given 
them  reasonable  time  to  escape.  As  may  be  imagin- 
ed, the  terror  of  the  women  and  children  in  Charles- 
ton that  night  was  extreme  when  it  was  realized  that 
the  city  was  being  bombarded.  The  distance  in  a 
direct  line  from  the  Swamp  Angel  Battery,  as  it  was 
called,  to  the  city  was  about  5  miles,  and  it  had  not 
been  thought  that  any  gun  could  shoot  that  far.  At 
first  only  percussion  shells  were  used,  but  later  on,  in 
1864,  time- fuse  shells  were  also  used,  and  were  much 
more  dangerous,  as  they  nearly  always  exploded. 
Battery  Haskell,  at  which  our  company  was  station- 
ed, was  nearly  in  line  between  the  Swamp  Angel  and 
the  city,  and  constantly  we  watched  the  shells,  city- 
bound,  passing  over  our  heads  high  in  the  air.  At 
night,  when  fuse  shells  were  used,  they  looked  like 
slow  meteors. 

Frequently,  when  the  tide  was  high,  some  of  the 
Federal  gunboats  came  into  the  inlet  in  front  of  Bat- 
tery Haskell,  and  about  half  a  mile  off,  and  threw 
a  number  of  shells  into  it.     But  no  harm  was  done, 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  21 

as  we  could  easily  see  the  shells  coming,  and  dodged 
them.  We  were  very  seldom  allowed  to  reply.  After 
the  shelling  was  over,  and  the  gunboat  had  hauled 
off,  it  was  my  habit  to  go  about  and  pick  up  the 
shells,  generally  about  sixty-pounders,  and  store 
them  under  my  cot  in  my  tent  until  I  could  find  time 
to  unscrew  the  fuse  plugs  and  pour  out  all  of  the 
powder.  As  soon  as  I  had  gathered  a  wagon  load  I 
would  carry  them  to  Charleston  and  sell  them  at  the 
arsenal.  This  was  such  a  period  of  violence  and 
bloodshed  that  the  fearful  risk  of  explosion  did  not 
concern  me,  and  what  I  am  equally  surprised  at  now, 
after  the  lapse  of  many  years,  is  that  my  officers  al- 
lowed such  a  thing  to  be  done  in  the  battery,  or  in 
fact  at  all. 

Here  I  witnessed  an  occurrence  that,  according  to 
the  law  of  chances,  would  not  happen  once  in  a  thou- 
sand times.  In  the  battery  was  a  dry  well,  about  six 
or  eight  feet  deep,  and  one  afternoon,  while  our 
friend  the  gunboat  was  throwing  the  usual  shells  at 
us,  and  we  were  dodging  them,  I  remarked  to  a  com- 
rade that  "that  old  well  would  be  a  good  place  to  get 
into."  The  remark  had  scarcely  been  made  before  a 
shell  dropped  into  that  well  as  accurately  as  possible. 
It  was  simply  one  of  those  remarkable  occurrences 
that  happen  in  real  life,  but  which  writers  dare  not 
put  in  fiction. 

The  picket  line  on  James  Island  in  this  vicinity, 
together  with  Battery  Haskell,  was  then  under  the 
command  of  Maj.  Edward  Manigault,  an  officer  of 


22  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

very  exceptional  ability.  During  this  summer  our 
shortness  of  rations  began,  and  continued  rather  to 
intensify  until  the  end.  For  one  period  of  about  two 
months  it  consisted  of  only  one  small  loaf  of  baker's 
bread  and  a  gill  of  sorghum  syrup  daily.  For  that 
time  we  had  not  a  particle  of  either  fresh  or  salt  meat. 
If  we  had  not  been  where  we  could  obtain  plenty  of 
fish,  we  would  have  suffered  seriously.  The  quarter- 
master's department  was  as  badly  crippled  as  the 
commissary's  and  most  of  us  could  get  no  new  shoes, 
and  several  of  our  men  were  actually  barefooted  in 
consequence;  but  it  being  summer,  and  on  a  sandy 
coast,  there  was  not  as  much  suffering  as  might  have 
been  otherwise.  Scurvy,  fever,  and  other  ailments 
were  very  general  and  several  deaths  resulted.  The 
battery  was  on  a  strip  of  land  separated  from  the 
main  land  of  James  Island  by  a  marsh  and  small 
creek,  over  which  was  a  causeway  and  bridge.  This 
causeway  was  watched  from  the  Federal  gunboats, 
and  every  time  even  one  man  would  go  across  it  he 
would  be  saluted  with  a  shell  or  two.  On  one  occa- 
sion I  was  ordered  to  drive  several  sick  men  to  the 
city  in  an  ambulance,  and  as  we  struck  the  causeway 
a  gunboat  sent  the  customary  shells  at  us.  The  sick 
men  were  nervous,  and  one  of  the  men  called  out, 
"For  God's  sake,  Ford,  put  down  the  curtains!" 

Toward  the  fall  of  1863,  after  the  evacuation  of 
Morris  Island  by  the  Confederate  troops,  our  com- 
pany was  withdrawn,  and  returned  to  the  old  camp- 
ing ground  at  Heyward's  place  near  Wappoo  Cut. 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  23 

As  it  seemed  that  we  would  remain  here  all  win- 
ter, as  we  really  did,  I  obtained  permission  to  build 
a  log  cabin  for  myself  and  my  mess.  One  day,  as 
I  was  building  the  chimney,  I  saw  Maj.  Edward 
Manigault  and  his  brother,  Gen.  Arthur  Manigault, 
who  was  spending  the  day  with  him,  walking  to- 
ward me  to  inspect  the  guns  parked  near  by.  As 
they  approached  I  jumped  down  off  the  scaffolding 
and  saluted  them.  They  returned  the  salute,  and 
then  the  Major  said :  "We  have  been  admiring 
your  chimney,  Mr.  Ford.  It  is  as  well  built  as  if 
a  mason  had  done  the  work."  The  old  man,  when- 
ever on  the  few  occasions  he  spoke  to  me,  strange  to 
say,  always  addressed  me,  a  private  soldier,  as 
"Mr."  Ford.  I  never  could  account  for  it,  unless  it 
was  that  he  knew  all  about  me  and  my  people. 
He  had  been  a  West  Pointer,  but  had  resigned  from 
the  U.  S.  Army  a  good  many  years  before.  Thus 
he  was  a  strict  disciplinarian,  and  on  that  account 
at  that  time  not  popular  with  the  men ;  but  I  always 
liked  him,  and  approved  of  his  discipline.  Later  on, 
as  the  service  became  more  exacting,  and  really  ac- 
tive, the  men  became  devoted  to  him,  as  they  realized 
his  ability  as  an  officer. 

On  December  23  our  company,  then  having  four 
24-pounder  Parrott  guns,  started  off  for  John's 
Island,  where  an  attempt  was  to  be  made  to  capture 
a  small  body  of  Federals  that  were  near  Legareville, 
and  also  to  sink  or  capture  a  Federal  gunboat  that 
was  off  that  place.     Our  company  was  to  have  been 


24  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

supported  by  a  Virginia  regiment.  On  Christmas 
day  at  daylight  we  opened  fire  from  our  masked 
battery  upon  the  two  gunboats,  for  there  were  two 
on  hand  instead  of  one,  but  the  infantry  remained 
in  the  background,  and  failed  to  attack  the  Federals 
near  Legareville  as  designed,  and  we  had  to  bear  the 
whole  brunt  of  the  fight.  It  was  a  sharp  affair,  and 
we  soon  had  to  get  out  of  it  as  best  we  could,  with 
the  loss  of  several  men  and   a  half  dozen  horses. 

In  this  affair  I  had  a  very  narrow  escape,  and 
another  man  lost  his  life  in  my  stead.  I  had  been 
lead  driver  on  gun  No.  2,  and  when  we  started  on 
this  expedition  I  was  transferred  to  cannoneer's 
duty,  and  young  Heyward  Ancrum  given  my  horses. 
Well,  in  the  fight  a 'shell  from  the  U.  S.  S.  Marble- 
head  passed  entirely  through  the  bodies  of  both  of 
my  horses,  and  took  off  Ancrum's  leg  at  the  knee. 
He  fell  among  the  struggling,  dying  horses,  but 
was  pulled  out,  and  died  soon  after.  He  was  cer- 
tainly killed  in  my  place. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  I  saw  that  celebrated 
torpedo  submarine  boat,  the  Hundley,  the  first  sub- 
marine boat  ever  built.  As  I  was  standing  on  the 
bank  of  the  Stono  River.  I  saw  the  boat  passing 
alonsf  the  river,  where  her  builder,  H.  L.  Hundley, 
had  brought  her  for  practice.  I  watched  her  as  she 
disappeared  around  a  bend  of  the  river,  and  little 
thought  of  the  fearful  tragedy  that  was  immediately 
to  ensue.      She  made  an  experimental  dive,   stuck 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  25 

her  nose  in  the  mud,  and  drowned  her  entire  crew. 
Her  career  was  such  an  eventful  one  that  I  record 
what  I  recollect  of  it. 

She  was  built  in  Mobile  by  Hundley,  and  brought 
on  to  Charleston  in  1863.  She  was  of  iron,  about 
20  feet  long,  4  feet  wide,  and  5  feet  deep — in  fact, 
not  far  from  round,  as  I  have  seen  it  stated ;  and 
equipped  with  two  fins,  by  which  she  could  be  raised 
or  lowered  in  the  water.  The  intention  of  her 
builder  was  that  she  should  dive  under  an  enemy's 
vessel,  with  a  torpedo  in  tow,  which  would  be 
dragged  against  the  vessel,  and  exploded  while  the 
Hundley,  or  "Fish"  as  some  called  her,  rose  on  the 
other  side.  She  was  worked  by  a  hand  propeller, 
and  equipped  with  water  tanks,  which  could  be 
filled  or  emptied  at  pleasure,  and  thus  regulate  her 
sinking  or  rising.  The  first  experiment  with  her  was 
made  in  Mobile  Bay,  and  she  went  down  all  right 
with  her  crew  of  seven  men,  but  did  not  come  up, 
and  every  man  died,  asphyxiated,  as  no  provision 
had  been  made  for  storing  a  supply  of  air. 

As  soon  as  she  was  raised,  she  was  brought  to 
Charleston,  and  a  few  days  after  her  acceptance  by 
General  Beauregard,  Lieutenant  Payne,  of  the  Con- 
federate Navy,  volunteered  with  a  crew  of  six  men 
to  man  her  and  attack  the  Federal  fleet  off  Charles- 
ton. While  he  had  her  at  Fort  Johnson,  on  James 
Island,  and  was  making  preparations  for  the  attack, 
one  night  as  she  was  lying  at  the  wharf  the  swell 
of  a  passing  steamer  filled  her,  and  she  went  to  the 


26  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

bottom,  carrying  with  her  and  drowning  the  six 
men.  Lieutenant  Payne  happened  to  be  near  an 
open  manhole  at  the  moment,  and  thus  he  alone 
escaped.  Notwithstanding  the  evidently  fatal  char- 
acteristics of  this  boat,  as  soon  as  she  was  raised 
another  crew  of  six  men  volunteered  under  Payne 
and  took  charge  of  her.  But  only  a  week  afterwards 
an  exactly  similar  accident  happened  while  she  was 
alongside  the  wharf  at  Fort  Sumter,  and  only  Payne 
and  two  of  his  men  escaped. 

H.  L.  Hundley,  her  builder  in  Mobile,  now  be- 
lieved that  the  crews  did  not  understand  how  to 
manage  the  "Fish,"  and  came  on  to  Charleston  to 
see  if  he  could  not  show  how  it  should  be  done.  A 
Lieutenant  Dixon,  of  Alabama,  had  made  several 
successful  experiments  with  the  boat  in  Mobile  Bay, 
and  he  also  came  on,  and  was  put  in  charge,  with 
a  volunteer  crew,  and  made  several  successful  dives 
in  the  harbor.  But  one  day.  the  day  on  which  I 
saw  the  boat,  Hundley  himself  took  it  into  Stono 
River  to  practice  her  crew.  She  went  down  all  right, 
but  did  not  come  up,  and  when  she  was  searched  for, 
found  and  raised  to  the  surface,  all  of  her  crew 
were  dead,  asphyxiated  as  others  had  been. 

After  the  boat  was  brought  up  to  Charleston, 
several  successful  experiments  were  made  with  her, 
until  she  attempted  to  dive  under  the  Confederate 
receiving  ship  Indian  Chief,  when  she  got  entangled 
with  an  anchor  chain  and  went  to  the  bottom,  and 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  27 

remained  there  until  she  was  raised  with  every  one 
of  her  crew  dead,  as  were  their  predecessors. 

No  sooner  had  she  been  raised  than  a  number  of 
men  begged  to  be  allowed  to  give  her  another  trial, 
and  Lieutenant  Dixon  was  given  permission  to  use 
her  in  an  attack  on  the  U.  S.  S.  Housatonic,  a  new 
gunboat  that  lay  off  Beach  Inlet  on  the  bar,  on  the 
condition  that  she  should  not  be  used  as  a  submarine 
vessel,  but  only  on  the  surface  with  a  spar  torpedo. 
On  February  17,  1864,  Lieutenant  Dixon,  with  a 
crew  of  six  men,  made  their  way  with  the  boat 
through  the  creeks  behind  Sullivan's  Island  to  the 
inlet.  The  night  was  not  very  dark,  and  the  Housa- 
tonic easily  could  be  perceived  lying  at  anchor,  un- 
mindful of  danger.  The  "Fish"  went  direct  for  her 
victim,  and  her  torpedo  striking  the  side  tore  a 
tremendous  hole  in  the  Housatonic,  which  sank  to 
the  bottom  in  about  four  minutes.  But  as  the  water 
was  not  very  deep  her  masts  remained  above  water, 
and  all  of  the  crew,  except  four  or  five  saved  them- 
selves by  climbing  and  clinging  to  them.  But  the 
"Fish"  was  not  seen  again.  From  some  unknown 
cause  she  again  sank,  and  all  her  crew  perished. 
Several  years  after  the  war,  when  the  government 
was  clearing  the  wrecks  and  obstructions  out  of 
Charleston  harbor,  the  divers  visited  the  scene  of  this 
attack,  and  on  the  sandy  bottom  of  the  sea  found 
the  hulk  of  the  Housatonic,  and  alongside  of  her 
the  shell  of  the  "Fish."  Within  the  latter  were  the 
skeletons  of  her  devoted  crew. 


28  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

This  submarine  torpedo  boat  must  not  be  confused 
with  the  surface  ones,  called  "Davids,"  that  were 
first  built  and  used  at  Charleston  in  the  fall  of  1863. 
These  "Davids"  were  cigar-shaped  crafts  about  30 
feet  long,  and  propelled  by  miniature  steam  engines ; 
and  they  each  carried  a  torpedo  at  the  end  of  a  spar  in 
the  bow.  There  were  several  of  them  at  Charleston 
and  points  along  the  coast. 

In  March,  1864,  I  had  the  only  violent  illness  I 
had  during  my  service,  until  at  the  end,  a  year  later, 
and  being  given  a  thirty-day  furlough  went  up  to 
Sumter,  where  I  had  some  near  relatives.  Here  I 
stayed  a  couple  of  weeks,  and  then  went  over  to 
Aiken,  where  my  parents  and  sisters  resided.  Al- 
though the  distance  from  Sumter  to  Aiken  was  only 
about  135  miles,  the  railway  trains  took  seventeen 
hours  to  make  the  distance.  It  is  hard  to  realize 
now  the  delays  and  discomforts  of  travel  in  the 
South  in  1864.  With  worn-out  tracks  and  road- 
beds, dilapidated  engines  and  cars,  it  is  remarkable 
that  the  railway  trains  were  able  to  run  at  all.  On 
this  occasion,  which  was  typical  of  travel  then, 
I  left  Sumter  at  10  o'clock  p.  m.,  and  just  before 
reaching  Kingsville  the  engine  ran  off  the  track 
from  a  worn-out  rail.  Two  hours  or  more  were 
spent  in  prying  it  back.  Then  shortly  after  the  train 
stopped  in  a  piece  of  woodland,  and  the  fireman 
and  train  hands  took  their  axes  and  spent  an  hour 
cutting  wood  and  putting  it  on  the  tender.  So  it 
was    full    daylight    when    we    reached    Kingsville. 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  29 

From  there  all  went  well  until  after  passing  Branch- 
ville  the  engine  broke  one  of  its  connecting  rods, 
and  we  had  to  wait  until  another  engine  could  be 
got  from  Branchville.  Some  miles  farther  up  the 
road  the  train  again  stopped,  and  the  hands  went 
into  the  woods  and  cut  wood  for  the  engine.  Fi- 
nally, at  about  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  I  arrived 
at  Aiken.  Here  I  remained  for  a  fortnight,  and 
then  joined  my  command,  which  had  just  been  or- 
dered to  Florida. 

Early  in  the  spring  the  Federals  made  an  advance 
into  Florida  from  Jacksonville,  and  a  number  of 
troops  were  sent  from  South  Carolina  to  oppose 
them.  Among  them  was  our  battery  of  artillery. 
We  reached  the  section  of  the  State  threatened  the 
day  after  the  battle  of  Olustee,  or  Ocean  Pond,  and 
were  then  ordered  back  to  Madison,  where  we  en- 
camped, and  during  our  stay  there  of  a  couple  of 
weeks  were  most  hospitably  treated  by  the  ladies  of 
the  town. 

This  battle  of  Olustee  was  a  very  severe  fight, 
and  a  bloody  one,  in  which  the  Federals  under  Gen- 
eral Seymour  were  routed  by  the  Confederates  under 
Gen.  Pat.  Finnigan  and  Gen.  A.  H.  Colquitt.  In 
this  battle  the  Federal  loss  was  about  1,900  men 
and  the  Confederate  about  1,000.  The  obstinacy  of 
the  struggle  may  be  appreciated  when  it  is  observed 
that,  out  of  the  total  of  11,000  men  engaged,  the 
casualties  amounted  to  2,900,  nearly  27  per  cent. 
As  I  have  said,  our  battery  reached  the  scene  after 


30  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

the  battle,  so  we  made  no  stay  near  Olustee,  but 
retired  to  Madison.  The  wounded  were  all  cared 
for  at  the  wayside  hospitals,  and  the  dead  white  men 
of  both  sides  buried ;  but  the  dead  negroes  were  left 
where  they  fell.  There  had  been  several  regiments 
of  negroes  in  the  Federal  force,  who  as  usual  had 
been  put  into  the  front  lines,  and  thus  received  the 
full  effect  of  the  Confederate  fire.  The  field  was 
dotted  everywhere  with  dead  negroes,  who  with  the 
dead  horses  here  and  there  soon  created  an  intoler- 
able stench,  perceptible  for  half  a  mile  or  more.  The 
hogs  which  roamed  at  large  over  the  country  were 
soon  attracted  to  the  spot  and  tore  many  of  the 
bodies  to  pieces,  feeding  upon  them.  This  field  of 
death,  enlivened  by  numbers  of  hogs  grunting  and 
squealing  over  their  hideous  meal,  was  one  of  the 
most  repulsive  sights  I  ever  saw. 

About  the  beginning  of  March  our  battery  was 
ordered  to  Baldwin,  about  9  miles  from  Jackson- 
ville. Here  we  remained  for  nearly  a  month,  and 
strange  to  say  had  a  very  uncomfortable  time  as 
far  as  food  was  concerned.  The  surrounding  coun- 
try was  barren,  swampy,  and  very  thinly  settled, 
so  there  was  very  little  private  foraging  to  be  done 
and  we  had  to  suffer  from  the  very  scant  rations 
served  out  by  the  commissary. 

This  department  was  in  a  very  disorganized  con- 
dition, probably  because  of  the  sudden  massing  of 
troops  at  an  unexpected  point ;  but  the  fact  was  that 
our  men  seldom  got  enough  of  even  the  coarsest 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  31 

food.  Our  battery  horses  were  supplied  with  corn 
and  forage,  and  on  several  occasions  after  going 
twenty-four  hours  without  any  food  I  made  use  of 
some  opportunity  to  steal  the  horses'  corn,  and 
parched  that  for  a  meal. 

The  bacon  served  out  occasionally  was  of  the 
most  emphatic  character,  and  very  animated,  but 
when  fried  and  eaten  with  eyes  shut,  and  nostrils 
closed,  did  no  harm.  Once  in  a  while  some  of  the 
men  would  go  into  the  swamp  and  still-hunt  wild 
hogs,  and  we  would  get  some  fresh  pork.  This 
hunting  was  against  orders,  and  the  officers  tried 
their  best  to  stop  it,  and  occasionally  some  man 
would  be  caught  at  it  and  punished,  but  the  men 
were  really  too  much  in  need  of  food  to  remain 
quiet  when  game  could  be  had.  These  hogs  had 
once  had  recognized  owners,  but  since  that  section 
of  country  had  been  deserted,  had  run  wild,  and 
lived  in  the  swamp.  It  was  by  no  means  easy  to 
shoot  them,  as  they  were  very  wary,  and  however 
quiet  the  hunter  might  remain  behind  his  brush  blind 
would  often  detect  his  presence  by  their  sense  of 
smell,  and  could  not  be  decoyed  within  range. 

My  company  was  soon  ordered  back  to  South 
Carolina,  and  our  route  lay  over  the  Albany  and 
Gulf  Railroad,  now  the  Atlantic  Coast  Line,  from 
Quitman  to  Savannah.  This  road,  like  all  others 
in  the  South,  was  in  a  terribly  dilapidated  condi- 
tion— rails  and  trestles  decayed,  and  rolling-stock 
worn  out.     The  engine  that  drew  our  train,  con- 


32  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

taining  only  our  battery,  was  unable  to  do  the  work, 
and  several  times  when  we  reached  the  easy  grades 
on  that  generally  very  level  road,  the  men  would  be 
compelled  to  get  off  and  assist  the  engine  by  pushing 
the  train  up  the  incline.  When  the  train  was  got  up 
to  the  top  of  the  grade  it  would  go  down  the  other 
side  by  its  own  impetus,  and  on  level  stretches  the 
engine  got  along  fairly  well.  We  made  the  distance 
of  170  miles  in  about  sixteen  hours,  a  little  over  ten 
miles  an  hour — fairly  good  speed  in  the  South  in 
1864. 

Our  battery  was  stopped  at  Green  Pond,  on  the 
Savannah  and  Charleston  Railroad,  and  we  spent 
the  summer  of  1864  doing  picket  duty  at  Combahee 
Point,  and  along  the  Ashepoo  River. 

At  Combahee  Point  we  were  stationed  on  Mr. 
Andrew  Burnett's  plantation.  The  camp  was  located 
on  the  edge  of  the  abandoned  rice  field,  while  the 
picket  post  was  in  front  on  some  breastworks  on 
the  river's  edge.  The  old  rice  fields  were  more  or 
less  overflowed,  the  banks  having  been  broken  for 
two  years  or  more,  and  in  them  were  numerous  alli- 
gators, some  of  considerable  size.  At  night  the 
noises  made  by  these  amphibians,  and  the  raccoons 
in  the  adjacent  marsh,  would  have  been  interesting 
to  a  naturalist,  but  were  annoying  to  us.  But  the 
most  serious  disturbers  of  our  peace  were  the  mos- 
quitoes.    These  were  of  such  size  and  venom  and 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  33 

in  such  numbers  as  to  cause  real  suffering,  and 
necessitate  the  use  of  unusual  schemes  to  protect 
ourselves  against  their  attacks. 

Accounts  of  these  mosquitoes  must  seem  incredi- 
ble to  any  one  who  has  never  spent  a  midsummer's 
night  in  the  rice  fields;  and  very  few  white  people 
have  done  this  since  the  war.  During  the  day  the 
comparatively  few  that  were  about  could  be  driven 
off  by  tobacco  smoke  and  other  means,  but  when 
night  fell,  and  the  myriads  came  up  from  the  fields 
and  marsh,  then  the  situation  became  serious.  When 
we  were  on  sentry  duty,  walking  post,  many  of  us 
wore  thick  woolen  gloves  to  protect  our  hands ;  and 
over  our  heads  and  necks  frames  made  of  thin  hoops 
covered  with  mosquito  netting.  And  when  we 
wanted  to  retire  to  our  small  "A"  tents,  we  had  to 
make  smudge  fires  in  them  first,  and  then  crawl  in 
on  our  hands  and  knees,  and  keep  our  faces  near 
the  ground  to  breathe,  until  finally  we  got  asleep. 
And,  moreover,  we  dared  not  let  our  faces  or  hands 
touch  the  sides  of  the  tent,  for  immediately  the 
mighty  insects  would  thrust  their  probosces 
through  the  canvas  and  get  us.  I  feel  dubious  about 
the  advisability  of  recording  such  a  statement,  but  as 
I  am  stating  only  facts  as  I  experienced  them,  this 
must  go  on  record. 

In  this  rice  field  section  our  men  suffered  greatly 
from  fever,  and  there  were  several  deaths.  I  was 
the  only  man  in  the  company  of  70  who  persisted 


34  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

in  taking  three  grains  of  quinine  daily,  and  one 
other  of  our  men  and  I  were  the  only  two  who  did 
not  have  a  touch  of  fever. 

While  on  duty  here,  early  one  morning  four  negro 
men  came  to  our  picket  bringing  two  Federal  offi- 
cers, and  turned  them  over  to  us.  Upon  inquiry  it 
seemed  that  these  two  officers,  one  of  them  a  Captain 
Strong  of  the  Regular  Army,  and  the  other  a  Volun- 
teer lieutenant,  had  been  captured  in  Virginia,  and 
were  on  their  way  to  prison  in  Georgia,  but  had 
escaped  from  the  cars  on  the  Savannah  and  Charles- 
ton Railroad,  and  had  tried  to  make  their  way  to 
the  Federal  fleet,  but  were  simply  starved  out,  until 
they  had  to  appeal  to  the  negroes  for  help,  and  they 
promptly  brought  them  in  to  us.  I  was  detailed  as 
one  of  the  men  to  guard  and  carry  them  to  Green 
Pond,  about  15  miles  off,  and  deliver  them  to  the 
authorities.  On  the  way  we  stopped  for  a  moment 
at  Mr.  Benjamin  Rhett's  plantation,  who,  as  soon 
as  he  learned  what  was  up  came  to  the  wagon  and 
with  the  consent  of  the  sergeant  in  command,  invited 
the  officers  into  his  house.  There,  as  soon  as  they 
had  made  some  ablutions,  he  carried  them  in  to 
breakfast,  and  entertained  them  for  an  hour;  at  the 
same  time  sending  breakfast  and  genuine  coffee  out 
to  us.  Captain  Strong  spoke  to  me  very  pleasantly, 
and  said  that  he  was  a  graduate  of  West  Point ;  and 
learning  that  I  was  from  Charleston,  inquired  about 
several  people  there  whom  I  knew,  among  others  of 
Col.  Sam.  Ferguson,  who  he  said  had  been  a  class- 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  35 

mate  of  his  at  the  Academy,  and  who  I  told  him  was 
at  that  time  with  the  army  in  the  West.  I  recollect 
that  he  was  interested  at  hearing  of  him.  He  seemed 
also  quite  struck  with  the  youthfulness  of  our  men, 
and  remarked  on  it. 

Late  in  the  fall  our  battery  was  removed  to  a 
point  on  the  Charleston  and  Savannah  Railroad, 
south  of  Green  Pond,  and  put  in  charge  of  a  battery 
there,  as  the  Federals  had  advanced  up  from  Port 
Royal,  with  the  evident  intention  of  attempting  to 
seize  the  railroad.  It  seems  that  this  really  was  the 
aim  of  the  movement,  conducted  under  the  command 
of  Gen.  Guy  V.  Henry.  And  this  movement  was 
suggested  by  General  Sherman,  who,  when  he  deter- 
mined upon  his  march  through  Georgia,  stated  to  the 
government  at  Washington  that  he  expected  to  reach 
Savannah  about  the  end  of  December,  and  suggested 
that  the  railway  between  Charleston  and  Savannah 
be  destroyed  before  he  got  there.  The  Federals 
made  several  advances,  but  never  could  get  nearer 
than  about  half  a  mile  of  the  railroad,  and  in  their 
efforts  to  do  so  were  defeated  and  driven  back  in 
two  or  three  affairs,  notably  in  a  serious  fight  at 
Tulafinny,  in  which  the  cadets  of  the  South  Carolina 
Military  Academy,  mere  boys,  were  engaged. 

In  these  infantry  affairs  we  had  no  part,  as  they 
occurred  at  some  distance  from  our  position.  Our 
company  at  the  time  was  serving  as  heavy  artiller- 
ists, and,  as  I  have  said,  had  charge  of  a  battery 
commanding  the  railroad.    The  Federals  had,  how- 


36  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

ever,  established  a  battery  of  field  pieces  about  700 
yards  in  our  front,  and  there  were  frequent  artil- 
lery duels,  but  without  serious  injury,  certainly  to 
our  side.  There  was  a  short  section  of  the  railway 
track  in  an  open  piece  of  country,  of  which  the 
enemy  got  the  range,  and  every  time  a  train  passed 
in  the  daytime  they  would  open  on  it  with  their  guns. 
When  the  engineers  approached  this  section  they 
put  on  all  the  speed  attainable,  which  was  not  very 
much  at  best,  with  the  dilapidated  engines  they  then 
had,  and  there  was  considerable  interesting  excite- 
ment in  being  on  a  flat  car  and  running  the  gauntlet 
in  this  way.  I  do  not  think,  however,  that  a  train 
was  ever  hit. 

About  December  the  field  pieces  were  taken  away 
from  our  company  and  Capt.  Porcher  Smith's,  and 
both  were  turned  into  infantry,  and  armed  with 
old-fashioned  Belgian  rifles,  probably  the  most  anti- 
quated and  worthless  guns  ever  put  into  a  modern 
soldier's  hands.  But  they  were  all  our  government 
had.  These  rifles  could  not  send  a  ball  beyond  200 
yards,  and  at  much  shorter  range  their  aim  was 
entirely  unreliable.  This  our  men  felt  hard  to  stand, 
as  they  knew  that  at  this  period  the  Federal  soldiers 
were  being  generally  armed  with  breech-loading 
Springfield  rifles,  weapons  which  thirty  years  later 
were  reckoned  very  formidable.  We  soon  after  were 
ordered  back  to  James  Island,  where  with  Captain 
Smith's  company  we  were  again  under  the  com- 
mand of  Maj.  Edward  Manigault.    We  were  at  once 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  37 

put  on  very  arduous  picket  duty  along  the  lines  on 
the  southwestern  part  of  the  island.  The  weather 
at  this  time  I  well  recollect  was  unusually  cold  and 
wet,  and  with  an  insufficiency  of  food  and  clothing, 
our  sufferings  were  severe.  Men  had  got  very 
scarce  then,  and  the  same  relay  had  to  be  kept  on 
picket  week  after  week  without  relief,  and  the  men 
would  often  have  to  stand  guard  on  the  outposts 
eight  or  ten  hours  on  a  stretch. 

On  one  occasion  while  another  man  and  I  were 
on  sentry  duty  on  the  lines  in  the  rifle-pits,  at  the 
break  of  day  we  saw  the  two  Federal  sentries  on  the 
other  side  of  the  intervening  marsh  desert  their 
posts,  and  unarmed  walk  quickly  toward  us.  When 
they  got  within  about  ten  paces  we  halted  them,  and 
called  our  officer.  As  soon  as  he  came  up  we  turned 
them  over  to  him.  I  always  had  a  loathing  for  a 
deserter,  and  said  to  the  men,  "If  I  had  my  way  I 
would  have  you  given  thirty-nine  lashes  each  and 
sent  back  under  flag  of  truce  to  your  command,  so 
you  could  be  shot  as  you  deserve."  One  of  them 
twiggled  his  fingers  on  his  nose  and  replied,  "Ah, 
but  you  hav'n't  got  no  say  in  the  matter." 

While  on  duty  on  these  outpost  lines,  the  Federals 
frequently  shelled  us  from  their  gunboats  in  Stono 
River.  We  did  not  mind  the  Parrott  shells,  but  the 
shells  from  the  Cohorn  mortars  on  a  mortar  schoon- 
er were  very  trying.  They  would  fall,  apparently 
from  the  sky,  and  there  was  no  dodging  them.  But 
fortunately  none  of  them  fell  directly  in  the  rifle- 


38  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

pits,  but  all  exploded  harmlessly  in  the  field.  All  old 
soldiers  know  that  mortar  shells  take  a  very  mean 
advantage  of  a  man. 

One  of  the  outposts  on  these  lines  which  was 
manned  only  at  night  was  out  in  the  marsh,  and  I 
had  it  one  night,  and  it  was  about  the  most  disagree- 
able night  I  ever  had  on  picket.  I  was  placed  on 
the  post  at  dark,  with  orders  to  keep  in  the  marsh, 
at  the  edge  of  the  tide  as  it  went  down,  and  to 
come  in  at  the  first  daylight.  I  was  all  the  time  up 
to  my  insteps  in  mud,  by  myself,  with  the  rain  fall- 
ing all  night.  I  stood  out  in  that  marsh  from  dark 
until  daylight,  in  the  drenching  rain,  for  about  ten 
hours.  Like  most  of  the  men,  I  had  no  oilskin,  or 
any  protection  against  the  weather,  and  of  course 
was  thoroughly  drenched  early  in  the  night,  and  the 
steady  rain  all  night  kept  me  saturated.  The  best 
I  could  do  was  to  try  to  keep  my  ammunition  and 
gun-lock  dry.  It  was  certainly  the  worst  night  I  ever 
spent. 

On  February  10,  1865,  we  had  our  first  serious 
infantry  fight,  as  infantry.  We  were  doing  picket 
duty  at  this  time  on  the  lines  near  Grimball's  cause- 
way, with  our  right  extending  to  Stono  River.  At 
about  daylight  that  morning  the  Federals  began  to 
shell  our  lines  from  four  gunboats  and  a  mortar 
schooner,  whose  masts  we  could  see  over  the  trees; 
and  soon  after  we  could  see  a  large  force  of  their 
infantry  assembling  on  Legare's  plantation  on  the 
other  side  of  the  flat  and  marsh  in  front  of  our  lines. 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  39 

Our  entire  force  along  this  part  of  the  lines  con- 
sisted of  52  men  of  our  company  and  40  men  of 
the  Second  South  Carolina  Artillery  and  about  20 
cavalry,  together  with  7  officers — all  told,  119  men. 
Just  before  the  Federal  infantry  advanced,  a  section 
of  artillery  took  position  at  about  600  yards  in  front 
of  us,  and  shelled  our  line,  but  did  no  damage.  The 
Federal  infantry  engaged,  as  I  learned  a  few  months 
afterwards  from  one  of  their  officers,  were  the  Fifty- 
fourth  and  One  Hundred  and  Forty-fourth  New 
York,  white;  and  the  Thirty-second,  Thirty-third, 
and  Fifty-fifth  U.  S.  negro  troops,  altogether  about 
1,500  men,  and  one  section  of  artillery.  We  were 
assaulted  directly  in  front,  but  held,  our  ground 
until  the  enemy  were  within  30  feet  of  our  line; 
in  fact,  some  of  their  men  were  actually  into  our 
trenches,  and  having  hand-to-hand  fights  with  our 
men.  So  close  had  they  got  that  I  had  ceased  firing, 
and  had  just  fixed  my  bayonet,  and  braced  myself 
for  a  hand-to-hand  fight,  when  Major  Manigault, 
who  was  standing  only  a  few  paces  to  my  right 
in  rear  of  the  line,  gave  the  order  to  retreat.  To  this 
moment  not  a  man  had  flinched,  but  at  the  order  to 
retreat  we  broke  for  the  rear,  a  few  of  the  men 
reloading,  turning,  and  firing  back  as  they  retreated. 
We  halted  at  a  ditch  about  300  yards  in  the  rear, 
where  we  found  the  battalion  of  cadets  of  the  South 
Carolina  Military  Academy,  and  a  company  of  the 
Second  Regiment  South  Carolina  Artillery,  alto- 
gether about  185  men.     We  who  had  come  out  of 


40  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

the  affair,  feeling  strong  with  this  support,  were 
anxious  to  return  and  try  to  drive  back  the  Fed- 
erals, but  we  had  no  such  orders.  And  probably 
it  was  well  we  did  not  do  so ;  for  about  700  of  the 
enemy  were  white  men,  and,  as  I  afterwards  learned, 
more  than  half  of  them  Irish;  and  for  about  267 
men  to  tackle  in  open  fight  nearly  three  times  their 
number,  of  that  class  of  men,  was  too  serious  an 
undertaking  to  be  attempted.  Of  course  as  to  the 
800  negroes  the  odds  would  not  have  been  counted. 

In  this  affair,  of  the  119  Confederates  engaged, 
we  lost  2  officers,  of  whom  one  was  the  gallant 
Major  Manigault,  severely  wounded,  and  37  men. 
The  Federals  lost  88.  Our  loss,  as  is  shown,  was 
about  33  per  cent,  of  our  force  engaged,  and  this 
large  mortality  shows  the  heavy  fire  to  which  we 
were  subjected.  General  Schimmelpfennig  was  in 
general  command  of  the  affair,  but  the  assault  was 
led  by  Colonel  Bennett,  who,  mounted  upon  a  sorrel 
horse,  was  a  mark  for  several  shots  from  our 
wretched  rifles,  but  escaped  unhurt. 

The  point  where  I  was,  just  about  the  center  of 
our  line,  at  the  causeway,  was  assaulted  by  a  regi- 
ment of  negro  troops ;  and  as  they  got  near  to  us 
I  distinctly  heard  their  officers  cursing  them.  I 
heard  one  officer  say.  "Keep  in  line  there,  you 
damned  scoundrels !"  and  another,  "Go  on,  you 
damned  rascals,  or  I'll  chop  you  down !"  I  saw 
the  line  waver  badly  when  it  got  to  within  fifty  yards 
of  us,  and  on  this  occasion  at  least  it  did  not  look 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  41 

to  me  as  if  the  negroes  had  the  spirit  to  "fight  no- 
bly." I  know  it  is  a  catch  phrase  elsewhere  that 
the  colored  troops  fought  nobly,  but  I  testify  to  what 
I  saw  and  heard. 

As  to  these  negro  troops,  there  was  a  sequel, 
nearly  a  year  later.  When  I  was  peaceably  in  my 
office  in  Charleston  one  of  my  family's  former 
slaves,  "Taffy"  by  name,  came  in  to  see  me.  In 
former  times  he  had  been  a  waiter  "in  the  house," 
and  was  about  my  own  age;  but  in  i860,  in  the 
settlement  of  an  estate,  he  with  his  parents,  aunt, 
and  brother  were  sold  to  Mr.  John  Ashe,  and  put 
on  his  plantation  near  Port  Royal.  Of  course,  when 
the  Federals  overran  that  section  they  took  in  all 
these  "contrabands,"  as  they  were  called,  and  Taffy 
became  a  soldier,  and  was  in  one  of  the  regiments 
that  assaulted  us.  In  reply  to  a  question  from  me, 
he  foolishly  said  he  "liked  it."  I  only  replied,  "Well, 
I'm  sorry  I  didn't  kill  you  as  you  deserved,  that's 
all  I  have  to  say."     He  only  grinned. 

On  February  17,  James  Island  was  evacuated  by 
the  Confederates.  Captain  Matthews's  company, 
formerly  artillery  but  now  infantry,  was  added  to 
our  two,  and  the  battalion  known  as  Manigault's, 
or  the  Eighteenth  South  Carolina  Battalion.  Major 
Manigault  being  wounded,  and  a  prisoner,  Capt.  B. 
C.  Webb,  of  Company  A,  was  in  command.  Our 
line  of  march  was  through  St.  Andrew's  Parish, 
across  the  bridge  at  Bee's  Ferry,  and  along  the  old 
State  road  past  Otranto  across  Goose  Creek  bridge, 


42  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

which  was  burned  as  soon  as  the  last  troops  had 
crossed.  Our  men  had  started  on  this  march  with 
as  much  baggage  as  they  thought  they  could  carry, 
but  they  soon  threw  aside  their  impedimenta,  and 
each  settled  down  to  his  one  blanket  and  such 
clothes  as  he  actually  wore.  This  march  across  the 
Carolinas  was  a  very  hard  one.  Our  feet  soon 
became  blistered  and  sore,  and  many  of  us  had 
no  shoes,  but  trudged  along  in  the  cold  and  mud 
barefooted  as  best  we  could.  As  I  have  already 
said,  this  was  a  cold  winter,  and  it  seemed  to  us 
that  it  rained  and  froze  constantly.  Not  a  particle 
of  shelter  did  we  have  day  or  night.  We  would 
march  all  day,  often  in  more  or  less  rain,  and  at 
nightfall  halt,  and  bivouac  in  the  bushes,  with  every 
particle  of  food  or  clothing  saturated.  Within  a 
few  minutes  after  a  halt,  even  under  a  steady  rain, 
fires  would  be  burning  and  quickly  extend  through 
the  bivouac.  If  a  civilian  should  attempt  to  kindle 
a  fire  with  soaked  wood  under  a  steady  rain,  he 
would  find  his  patience  sorely  tried,  but  the  soldiers 
seemed  to  have  no  trouble. 

After  the  fires  were  kindled  we  had  to  wait  for 
the  arrival  of  the  commissary  wagons ;  and  it  was 
not  uncommon  for  a  detail  of  men  to  be  sent  back 
in  the  night  to  help  push  the  wagons  through  the 
mud ;  weary,  footsore,  hungry,  in  the  dark,  up  to 
the  knees  in  mud,  heaving  on  the  wheels  of  a  stalled 
wagon!  It  was  often  late  at  night  before  the  wag- 
ons were  got  up  and  rations  could  be  obtained. 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  43 

The  men,  of  course,  had  to  take  turns  in  the  use 
of  the  two  or  three  frying-pans  carried  for  each 
company,  and  when  worn  down  by  marching  from 
early  dawn  until  dark  it  was  disheartening  to  have 
to  wait  one's  turn,  which  often  did  not  come  until 
eleven  o'clock  at  night.  Frequently  the  men,  rather 
than  wait  for  the  frying-pan,  would  fry  their  scraps 
of  bacon  on  the  coals,  and  make  the  cornmeal  into 
dough,  which  they  would  wrap  around  the  ends 
of  their  ramrods  and  toast  in  the  fire.  When  the 
rations  were  drawn  they  consisted  of  only  seven 
ounces  of  bacon  and  one  pint  of  cornmeal  to  the 
man  per  day;  and  on  several  occasions  even  these 
could  not  be  had,  and  the  men  went  to  sleep  supper- 
less,  and  with  nothing  to  eat  during  the  next  day. 
The  commissary  department  of  the  corps  seemed 
to  be  unequal  to  the  occasion,  but  this  fact  is  not 
surprising  when  the  rapidity  of  the  march  and  deso- 
lation of  the  country  are  considered.  Nevertheless, 
on  several  occasions  the  writer's  command  passed 
forty  hours  without  receiving  any  rations,  and  once 
fifty  hours,  so  that  we  were  glad  of  an  opportunity 
to  beg  at  any  farm-house  for  an  ear  of  corn  with 
which  to  alleviate  our  hunger. 

All  along  the  line  of  march  large  numbers  of  men 
were  constantly  deserting.  Nightly,  under  cover  of 
darkness,  many  would  sneak  from  their  bivouacs 
and  go  off,  not  to  the  enemy,  but  to  their  homes. 
But  those  of  our  men  who  remained  were  in  good 
spirits. 


44  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

The  most  influential  cause  of  desertions  was  the 
news  that  reached  the  men  of  the  great  suffering 
of  their  wives  and  children  at  home,  caused  by  the 
devastations  of  Sherman's  army.  Wherever  this 
army  passed  from  Atlanta  to  Savannah,  and  from 
Savannah  through  Columbia,  Camden,  and  Cheraw, 
into  North  Carolina,  a  tract  of  country  30  miles  wide 
was  devastated.  Farm-houses,  barns,  mills,  etc., 
were  all  burned.  Farm  animals,  poultry,  etc,  were 
all  ruthlessly  killed,  and  the  women  and  children 
left  to  starve.  This  was  most  especially  the  case  in 
South  Carolina,  where  Sherman  burned  every  town 
in  his  path — Walterboro,  Barnwell,  Midway,  Bam- 
berg, Blackville,  Williston,  Orangeburg,  Columbia, 
Camden,  and  Cheraw.  His  cavalry  leader,  General 
Kilpatrick,  attempted  to  burn  Aiken,  but  was  quickly 
beaten  off  by  General  Wheeler.  When  the  men 
learned  of  the  suffering  of  their  women  at  home, 
many  of  them  not  unnaturally  deserted,  and  went 
to  their  aid. 

This  terrible  strain  on  the  integrity  of  the  men 
was  the  cause  of  a  pitiable  execution  that  took  place 
on  the  line  of  march  one  day.  A  sergeant  in  the 
First  Regiment  Regulars,  upon  being  reproved  by 
his  lieutenant  for  justifying  and  advising  the  deser- 
tion of  the  men,  in  a  fit  of  temper  attempted  to 
shoot  this  officer.  The  line  was  immediately  halted, 
the  man  was  carried  before  a  drum-head  court  mar- 
tial, tried,  and  condemned  to  be  shot  on  the  spot. 
He  was  led  out,  tied  with  his  back  against  a  tree, 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  45 

and  shot  to  death.  It  was  an  awful  sight.  I  recol- 
lect that  while  awaiting  death,  the  chaplain  spoke 
to  him,  and  offered  to  pray  with  him.  His  only 
reply  was,  'Treacher,  I  never  listened  to  you  in 
Fort  Sumter,  and  I  won't  listen  to  you  now." 

All  of  the  Confederate  troops  in  South  Carolina 
were  under  the  command  of  Lieut.-Gen.  T.  J.  Har- 
dee, one  of  the  ablest  corps  commanders  in  the 
Confederate  service.  He  was  nicknamed  by  the 
men,  "Old  Reliable."  Our  battalion,  known  also  as 
the  Eighteenth,  with  Major  Bonneau's  Georgia  bat- 
talion, the  battalion  of  Citadel  Cadets,  and  the 
Second  Regiment  South  Carolina  Heavy  Artillery 
constituted  Brig.-Gen.  Stephen  Elliott's  brigade, 
which,  with  Col.  Alfred  Rhett's  brigade,  constituted 
Maj.-Gen.  Taliaferro's  division.  About  March  I 
we  reached  Cheraw,  which  we  left  two  days  after. 
As  we  left  the  town  Sherman's  army  pressed  us 
closely,  and  my  recollection  is  that  there  was  a  sharp 
cavalry  skirmish  at  the  bridge,  which  we  burned  as 
soon  as  our  troops  had  got  across.  I  think  Gen. 
M.  C.  Butler  was  the  last  man  to  cross,  and  galloped 
across  it  while  it  was  actually  in  flames.  At  the 
State  line  the  Citadel  Cadets  left  us,  and  returned 
to  South  Carolina. 

The  route  of  the  army  lay  through  Fayetteville, 
N.  C,  where  we  crossed  the  Cape  Fear  River  about 
a  week  later.  After  our  men  had  crossed  the  bridge 
I  was  detailed  from  my  company  as  one  of  a  number 
to  guard  it,  until  all  the  wagons,  etc.,  and  the  last 


46  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

of  the  cavalry  had  got  across  and  it  was  burned, 
and  when  the  bridge  had  been  burned,  one  of  the 
cavalrymen  let  me  ride  a  led  horse  until  I  caught 
up  with  my  command  some  distance  in  front.  I 
remember  his  telling  me  of  a  very  remarkable  scrim- 
mage that  had  just  occurred  on  the  other  side  in 
Fayetteville.  It  seems  that  before  all  of  our  wagons 
had  got  across  the  bridge,  and  our  own  cavalry  had 
come  up,  a  troop  of  about  70  Federal  cavalry  rode 
into  the  town  to  cut  our  wagons,  etc.,  off  from  the 
bridge.  General  Hampton,  with  two  of  his  staff 
officers  and  four  couriers,  in  all  only  seven  men, 
instantly  dashed  themselves  against  the  Federals, 
and  in  a  hand-to-hand  fight  killed  eleven  of  them, 
captured  as  many  more,  and  ran  the  rest  out  of  town, 
and  all  without  the  loss  of  a  single  man.  A  very 
remarkable  affair.  I  also  heard  that  Hampton 
had  caught  a  spy,  who  would  be  hanged  when  the 
army  halted.  I  never  heard  anything  more  about  it, 
as  I  had  other  things  much  more  personal  to  engage 
my  attention,  and  presumed  he  was  strung  up  ac- 
cording to  military  usage. 

But  it  seems  that  the  man  was  not  hanged.  Wells, 
in  "Hampton  and  His  Cavalry  in  '64,"  gives  the 
particulars  of  this  wonderful  affair,  and  states  that 
the  spy's  name  was  David  Day,  and  that  he  was 
turned  over  to  some  junior  reserves  for  safe  keeping 
and  escaped.     And  there  was  an  interesting  sequel. 

Thirty-one  years  after  this  fight,  Hampton  then 
being  United  States  Railwav  Commissioner,  and  in 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  47 

Denver,  Colorado,  a  stranger  called  upon  him  and 
explained  that  he  was  the  David  Day,  the  spy  cap- 
tured in  the  affair,  dressed  in  Confederate  uniform. 
Hampton  congratulated  him  and  said  he  was  "glad 
the  hanging  did  not  come  off."  "So  am  I,"  replied 
the  other,  laughing. 

•  At  Fayetteville  a  few  of  the  men  of  our  company, 
I  among  them,  procured  Enfield  rifles  in  place  of 
the  old  Belgians  we  had,  and  also  got  ammunition 
to  suit.  The  Enfield  was  a  muzzle  loader,  but 
really  one  of  the  best  guns  of  the  day  of  its  kind, 
and  fairly  accurate  at  600  yards.  About  half  of  the 
company,  however,  had  only  the  worthless  Belgians 
to  the  end. 

We  were  now  so  closely  pursued  by  Sherman 
that  on  March  16  General  Hardee,  having  about 
6,000  men,  determined  to  make  a  stand  near  Averys- 
boro,  between  the  Cape  Fear  and  Black  Rivers, 
where  at  daylight  Taliaferro's  division  was  attacked 
full  in  front  by  the  Fourteenth  and  Twentieth  Corps 
of  the  Federal  Army,  and  Kilpatrick's  cavalry,  alto- 
gether about  20,000  men,  General  Sherman  being 
personally  on  the  field.  The  fighting  was  stubborn, 
at  very  close  quarters,  along  the  entire  line.  Twenty 
men,  of  whom  I  was  one,  were  detailed  from  Elliott's 
brigade  and  attached  to  the  left  of  Colonel  Butler's 
First  Regular  Infantry,  of  Rhett's  brigade,  and 
there  I  served  through  the  fight.  We  held  our  posi- 
tion in  the  open  woods  without  protection  for  about 
three  hours,   and  repulsed  repeated  assaults,   until 


*  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

the  left  of  the  line,  resting  on  a  swamp  along  the 
Black  River,  which  had  been  thought  to  be  impass- 
able, was  turned  by  a  heavy  force  of  Federals,  which 
had  made  their  way  through  the  swamp.  This  force, 
I  afterwards  learned,  was  Colonel  Jones's  regiment 
of  Indiana  cavalry,  fighting  as  infantry,  and  armed 
with  Spencer  magazine  carbines.  Our  whole  force 
then  fell  back  about  400  yards  to  a  line  of  breast- 
works manned  by  McLaws's  skeleton  division,  and 
which  the  Federals  later  in  the  day  unsuccessfully 
assaulted.  The  Confederate  loss  in  this  battle  was 
500,  and  the  next  day  some  of  Kilpatrick's  cavalry- 
men, who  had  just  been  captured,  told  me  that  the 
Federal  loss  had  been  about  2,500.  The  Confeder- 
ate forces  engaged  in  this  fight  were  Rhett's  and 
Elliott's  brigades,  two  artillery  companies,  and 
McLaws's  division ;  and  it  was  not  the  intention  of 
General  Hardee  that  Taliaferro's  division  should 
make  such  a  stubborn  stand-up  fight.  It  was  the 
intention  that  they  should  engage  only  as  skirmish- 
ers, bring  on  the  fight,  and  then  fall  back  gradually 
into  the  breastworks,  where  the  real  fighting  was  to 
have  been  done.  But  Elliott's  and  Rhett's  men  had 
previously  done  only  garrison  and  artillery  duty  on 
the  coast,  and  this  was  their  first  experience  in  in- 
fantry fighting  in  the  open,  and  they  knew  no  better 
than  to  stand  up  and  fight  it  out.  Sherman  in  his 
report  to  the  U.  S.  War  Department  of  this  affair 
expressed  his  surprise  at  the  tenacity  with  which 
our  men  held  their  ground. 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  49 

It  was  on  this  occasion  that  Col.  Alfred  Rhett 
was  captured.  It  seems  that  a  Captain  Theo.  F. 
Northrop,  of  a  regiment  of  New  York  cavalry,  was 
scouting  with  a  few  men  at  early  dawn  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  battle,  and  just  in  front  of  our  lines  came 
unexpectedly  upon  Generals  Hampton  and  Talia- 
ferro, with  a  group  of  aids.  He  and  his  men 
promptly  made  themselves  invisible,  and  withdrew, 
and  a  few  moments  after  Colonel  Rhett  rode  up 
on  them.  He  put  his  pistol  in  Colonel  Rhett's  face 
and  said,  "You  must  come  with  me."  Colonel  Rhett 
replied,  "Who  the  hell  are  you  ?"  and  drew  his  pistol 
to  fight.  Instantly  the  men  with  Captain  Northrop 
put  their  carbines  to  Colonel  Rhett's  head,  and  he, 
seeing  how  the  case  stood,  gave  up,  and  was  carried 
to  General  Slocum,  who  sent  him  to  General  Sher- 
man's headquarters.  Captain  Northrop  has  stated 
to  me  that  Colonel  Rhett  told  him  that  when  first 
accosted  he  thought  he  was  dealing  with  one  of 
General  Wheeler's  men,  and  he  would  have  shot 
him  for  his  insolence.  And  he  was  always  satisfied 
that  if  Colonel  Rhett  had  realized  at  the  very  first 
that  they  were  the  enemy  he  met,  he  would  have 
fought  and  tried  to  get  away,  although  he  would 
have  probably  been  killed  in  the  attempt. 

Captain  Northrop  took  Colonel  Rhett's  sword 
and  pistol.  The  sword  was  lost  some  years  ago  in 
a  railway  train,  but  he  has  the  pistol  still,  with 
Colonel  Rhett's  name  engraved  on  it. 


50  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

The  fight  took  place  in  a  piece  of  pine  forest, 
and  there  were  many  trees  that  afforded  protection 
to  the  men  on  both  sides.  The  lines  were  very  close 
together,  so  close  that  I  could  at  times  clearly  observe 
the  faces  of  the  Federal  soldiers  opposite.  At  one 
time  I  was  protected  by  a  good  pine  tree  and  felt 
quite  comfortable  as  the  bullets  thwacked  against 
the  other  side  of  it ;  but  within  a  few  feet,  to  my 
left,  was  an  old  stump-hole  full  of  dry  leaves,  and 
the  bullets  striking  in  those  leaves  made  a  terrible 
racket.  I  stood  the  racket  as  long  as  I  could,  but 
finally  could  stand  it  no  longer,  and  contrary  to 
common  sense  abandoned  my  friendly  tree  and 
stepped  a  few  paces  to  the  right,  away  from  that 
noisy  stump-hole.  There  I  stood  unprotected  in 
the  open,  but  not  many  minutes  before  I  was  struck 
full  in  the  middle  of  my  body  and  knocked  down 
to  a  sitting  posture.  My  blanket  was  rolled  in  a 
tight  roll,  not  over  three  inches  thick,  and  being  of 
course  on  my  left  shoulder,  and  across  my  body 
downwards  to  the  right,  had  saved  my  life.  The 
ball  had  passed  through  the  roll,  and  striking  a 
button  on  my  jacket  had  stopped,  and  as  I  dropped  it 
fell  down,  flattened  out  of  all  shape.  I  lay  on  the 
ground  for  a  few  moments,  paralyzed  by  the  blow, 
and  I  recollect  hearing  a  comrade,  who  received  a 
bullet  through  the  brain  only  a  few  moments  after- 
wards, call  out,  "Ford's  killed."  I  gathered  myself 
back  into  a  sitting  posture  and  replied,  "No,  I'm  not. 
I  think  I'm  all  right."     But  the  pain  was  intense, 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  51 

as  every  boy  knows  who  in  a  boxing  bout  gets  a  lick 
in  "the  short  wind."  In  a  few  moments  I  was  back 
again  on  my  feet,  and  resumed  my  place  in  line, 
although  suffering  considerable  pain  and  nausea. 
For  some  time  after  I  carried  on  my  body  a  black 
and  blue  spot  the  size  of  a  dollar. 

I  recollect  noticing  the  conspicuous  coolness  of 
Maj.  Thos.  Huguenin,  of  the  First  Infantry.  Dur- 
ing the  hardest  of  the  fighting  he  walked  slowly 
immediately  behind  the  line  in  which  I  was,  smoking 
his  pipe  as  calmly  as  if  he  had  been  at  home. 

Here  an  incident  occurred  that  showed  how, 
under  the  most  serious  condition,  with  death  and 
imminent  danger  all  around,  a  soldier's  mind  is 
often  diverted  by  the  most  trivial  thing.  It  is  a 
strange  phase  of  the  mind  which  I  have  heard  old 
soldiers,  who  have  seen  much  hard  fighting,  comment 
upon.  During  the  sharpest  of  the  fighting,  a  hog 
started  from  the  swamp  on  my  left  and  ran  squeal- 
ing and  terrified  directly  down  the  front  of  our  line, 
presenting  quite  a  ludicrous  spectacle,  and  I  heard  a 
number  of  men,  as  he  passed  along  the  line,  whoop 
at  him  and  call  out,  "Go  it,  piggy !"  "Save  your 
bacon,  piggy !"  etc.  But  piggy  had  not  got  more 
than  a  hundred  feet  past  me  when  he  turned  a  somer- 
sault, kicked  a  moment  or  two,  and  lay  still.  He 
had  evidently  stopped  a  bullet. 

An  incident  showing  the  same  phase  of  mind 
was  told  me  by  a  member  of  the  Fourteenth  South 
Carolina  Volunteers,  as  occurring  during  the  great 


52  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

battle  of  Gettysburg.  As  Kershaw's  brigade,  on  the 
second  day,  was  advancing  to  the  assault  of  Little 
Round  Top,  a  company  of  the  Fourteenth  wras 
among  those  thrown  forward  as  skirmishers,  and 
as  they  advanced  across  the  field  toward  the  Fed- 
erals, they  came  to  a  large  patch  of  ripe  black- 
berries. The  men  with  one  accord  immediately 
turned  their  attention  to  the  ripe  fruit  which  was 
in  great  abundance  on  every  side,  and,  stooping 
down,  kept  picking,  and  eating  berries,  as  they  went 
slowly  forward,  actually  into  action.  And  so  much 
was  their  attention  distracted  by  the  blackberries 
that  they  were  actually  within  50  yards  of  the 
enemy's  advanced  line  before  they  realized  their 
position,  when  they  rushed  forward  with  a  yell,  and 
got  possession  of  a  slightly  elevated  roadway,  which 
they  held  until  the  main  line  came  up. 

During  the  assault  on  the  breastworks,  Capt.  S. 
Porcher  Smith,  who  was  standing  just  behind  me, 
was  shot  through  the  face  and  fell.  The  litter- 
bearers  picked  him  up,  and  as  they  were  carrying 
him  to  the  rear,  one  of  them  was  shot  and  fell,  and 
Captain  Smith  rolled  headlong  out  of  the  litter. 
I  well  remember  this  incident. 

We  held  our  position  until  about  midnight,  when 
we  fell  back  to  a  place  called  Elevation.  This 
night's  march  was  a  very  trying  one.  The  road 
was  terribly  cut  up  by  the  wagons  and  artillery, 
and  as  the  rains  had  been  frequent  it  seemed  as 
if  the  clay  mud   was   knee   deep.     We  floundered 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  53 

along  for  about  six  hours,  and  at  daylight  on  the 
17th  halted  and  were  given  some  rations.  Most 
of  us  had  not  had  a  morsel  of  food  since  the  night 
of  the  15th.  It  happened  in  this  way.  On  the  night 
of  the  15th  we  cooked  our  cornmeal  and  bacon 
and  ate  our  supper,  saving  half  for  the  next  day. 
At  the  early  break  of  day  on  the  16th,  as  I  was 
warming  my  bacon  and  corn  pone  in  a  frying-pan 
before  eating  some  of  it,  the  Federals  attacked  us, 
and  we  had  to  fall  into  line  instantly.  So  I  had  to 
leave  the  frying-pan  with  all  my  food  as  it  was  on 
the  fire  and  go  through  that  day's  hardship,  and 
until  the  next  day  at  Elevation,  without  any  food 
whatever.  It  had  been  General  Hardee's  intention 
to  give  us  two  or  three  days'  rest  at  Elevation,  but 
it  having  been  ascertained  that  the  Federal  army 
was  pushing  toward  Goldsboro,  Gen.  Jos.  E.  Johns- 
ton, then  only  recently  put  in  command  of  the 
Confederate  troops  in  North  Carolina,  ordered 
General  Hardee  to  hurry  forward  and  intercept 
Sherman  near  Bentonville.  So  about  3  o'clock  on 
the  morning  of  the  19th  we  were  aroused  and 
hurried  on  toward  Bentonville,  where  we  arrived  a 
little  before  three  in  the  afternoon,  having  made 
the  20  miles  in  rather  less  than  12  hours. 

It  was  on  the  march  this  day  that  an  amusing 
incident  occurred.  I  had  not  owned  a  pair  of  socks 
since  I  left  James  Island  a  month  before,  and  my 
shoes  were  in  such  tattered  condition  that  I  could 
keep  uppers  and  soles  together  only  by  tying  them 


54  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

with  several  leather  strings,  but  most  of  my  toes 
stuck  out  very  conspicuously.  I  had  read  of  the 
importance  that  great  generals  attached  to  the  good 
condition  of  infantry  soldiers'  feet,  and  hence  the 
aphorism,  "A  marching  man  is  no  stronger  than 
his  feet,"  and  I  determined  to  keep  mine  in  good 
condition  if  possible.  I  knew  that  frequent  bathing 
prevented  blistering;  therefore,  every  night  before 
going  to  sleep,  and  often  on  the  march  during  the 
day  I  would  bathe  my  feet,  so  that  they  were  never 
blistered,  and  I  kept  well  up  with  my  company  in 
marching.  On  this  day  as  we  crossed  a  little  stream, 
according  to  my  custom  I  stepped  aside,  and  pulling 
off  my  shoes  soaked  my  feet  in  the  running  water. 
General  Hardee  and  his  staff  rode  by  at  the  moment. 
He  checked  his  horse  and  called  sternly  to  me,  "You 
there,  sir !  What  are  you  doing  straggling  from 
your  command?  I  suppose  you  are  one  of  those 
men  who  behaved  so  badly  at  Averysboro."  (A  few 
men  had  been  guilty  of  misconduct  there.)  I  sprang 
to  my  feet,  and  saluting  him  said,  ''Excuse  me, 
General,  but  you  are  speaking  to  the  wrong  man, 
sir.  I  have  never  misbehaved,  and  never  straggled. 
I  am  only  bathing  my  feet  to  prevent  them  from 
blistering.  There  is  my  company  right  ahead  there, 
sir,  and  I  always  keep  up  with  it."  My  injured  tone 
and  evident  sincerity  struck  the  old  man,  and  he 
saluted  me  with  the  words,  "I  beg  your  pardon,  sir," 
and  rode  on.  He  was  a  courtly  and  knightly 
soldier,  and  a  great  favorite  with  the  men. 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  55 

We  reached  Bentonville  at  about  3  o'clock  p.  m., 
only  a  short  time  after  the  battle  had  begun,  and 
as  we  marched  hurriedly  along  the  road  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  firing  we  passed  a  number  of  wounded 
men  coming  to  the  rear;  and  then  several  oper- 
ating tables  on  both  sides  of  the  road,  some  with 
wounded  men  stretched  on  them  with  the  surgeons 
at  work,  and  all  of  them  with  several  bloody  ampu- 
tated legs  and  arms  thrown  alongside  on  the  grass. 
The  sight  was  temporarily  depressing,  as  it  fore- 
shadowed what  we  had  to  expect.  But  we  hurried 
on,  and  our  division  halted  for  a  few  moments  on 
the  ground  from  which  the  Federals  had  just  been 
repulsed,  and  there  were  quite  a  number  of  their 
dead  and  wounded  lying  about.  One  of  the  Fed- 
eral wounded,  a  lieutenant,  begged  us  for  some 
water,  and  I  stepped  from  the  line  and  gave  him  a 
drink  from  my  canteen.  Others  begged  me  likewise, 
and  in  a  few  moments  my  canteen  was  empty.  I 
knew  that  this  might  result  seriously  to  me,  in  case 
I  should  need  the  water  badly  for  myself,  but  I  could 
not  refuse  a  wounded  man's  appeal  even  if  he  was 
my  enemy;  and  one  of  our  men,  a  thrifty  fellow, 
who  always  managed  to  have  things,  produced  a 
little  flask  of  whiskey,  and  gave  a  good  drink  to 
a  Federal  who  had  his  leg  badly  crushed.  The  blue- 
coat  raised  his  eyes  to  Heaven  with,  "Thank  God, 
Johnnie ;  it  may  come  around  that  I  may  be  able 
to  do  you  a  kindness,  and  I'll  never  forget  this 
drink  of  liquor."     We  were  not  allowed  to  remain 


56  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

long  relieving  the  suffering,  but  soon  were  called  to 
"attention,"  and  received  orders  to  create  it,  by  an 
attack  upon  the  enemy  from  our  extreme  right.  At 
this  moment  Maj.  A.  Burnett  Rhett,  of  the  artillery, 
rode  along  the  line  and  called  out  that  news  had  been 
received  that  France  had  recognized  the  Confeder- 
acy and  would  send  warships  to  open  our  ports 
immediately.  The  men  cheered,  few  of  us  realizing 
that  the  end  was  so  near.  We  were  blinded  by  our 
patriotism.  There  was  Lee  with  his  30,000  men 
that  moment  surrounded  by  Grant  with  his  150,000. 
Here  was  Johnston  with  his  14,000  trying  to  keep 
at  bay  Sherman  with  his  70,000,  with  the  knowledge 
that  Schofield  was  only  two  days  off  with  40,000 
more.  And  this  was  about  all  there  was  to  the 
Confederacy;  and  they  talked  of  recognition!  Oh, 
the  pity  of  it! 

As  we  stood  in  line  ready  to  advance  my  next 
comrade  remarked,  "Well,  boys,  one  out  of  every 
three  of  us  will  drop  to-day.  I  wonder  who  it  will 
be?"  This  had  been  about  our  proportion  in  our 
two  previous  infantry  engagements,  and  it  was  not 
far  short  of  the  same  here,  for  out  of  the  twenty-one 
men  the  company  carried  into  the  fight  five  were 
left  on  the  field.  At  the  word  the  line  advanced 
through  a  very  thick  black  jack-oak  woods  full  of 
briars,  and  then  double-quicked.  We  ran  right  over 
the  Federal  picket  line  and  captured  or  shot  every 
one  of  the  pickets.  One  picket  was  in  the  act  »f 
eating   his    dinner,    and   as   we   ran    upon    him    he 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  57 

dropped  his  tin  bucket,  which,  strange  to  say,  had 
rice  and  peas  boiled  together.  Our  lieutenant 
grabbed  it  up,  and  carried  it,  with  the  spoon  still 
in  the  porridge,  in  his  left  hand  in  the  charge.  We 
went  through  the  bushes  yelling  and  at  a  run  until 
we  struck  a  worm  rail  fence  on  the  edge  of  an  old 
field.  I  sprang  up  on  the  fence  to  get  over,  but 
when  on  top  could  see  no  enemy,  and  so  called  out 
to  the  men,  a  number  of  whom  were  likewise  imme- 
diately on  the  fence.  Just  at  this  moment  the 
officers  called  to  us  to  come  back,  as  a  mistake  had 
been  made.  Our  division  had  not  gone  far  enough 
to  our  right.  The  line  was  again  formed  in  the 
thick  bushes,  and  we  went  about  two  hundred  yards 
or  so  farther  to  the  right,  and  during  this  movement 
the  lieutenant  ate  the  captured  porridge,  and  gave 
me  the  empty  tin  bucket  and  spoon.  I  attached  the 
bucket  to  my  waist  belt,  and  kept  it  for  about  a 
month,  when  in  an  amusing  encounter  with  Gen. 
Sam  Cooper,  of  which  I  will  tell  farther  on,  it  got 
crushed.    The  spoon  I  have  kept  to  the  present  time. 

Our  line  was  soon  again  halted  just  on  the  inside 
edge  of  the  dense  woods,  and  concealed  by  the  brush, 
and  I  could  see  on  the  other  side  of  the  field,  about 
300  yards  distant,  twelve  pieces  of  artillery  glisten- 
ing in  the  sun,  and  behind  them  a  dense  mass  of  blue 
infantry  evidently  expecting  our  attack,  and  ready 
for  us. 

As  we  stood  there  for  a  few  minutes  and  saw  the 
work  cut  out  for  us,  one  of  our  men,  one  of  the  few 


58  LIFE  IN   THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

who  had  been  of  age  in  i860,  said  in  a  plaintive 
tone,  "If  the  Lord  will  only  see  me  safe  through 
this  job,  I'll  register  an  oath  never  to  vote  for  seces- 
sion again  as  long  as  I  live." 

At  the  word  "forward"  our  brigade  left  the  cover 
of  the  woods  at  the  double-quick,  and  the  men 
reopened  with  their  yells. 

As  all  veterans  of  the  great  war  know,  in  a  charge 
the  Confederates  did  not  preserve  their  alignment, 
as  the  Federals  did.  They  usually  went  at  a  run, 
every  man  more  or  less  for  himself.  There  was  also 
an  inexplicable  difference  between  the  battle  cries 
of  the  Federal  and  Confederate  soldiers.  In  the 
assaults  of  the  Federals  the  cries  were  regular,  like 
"Hurrah !  Hurrah  !  Hurrah  !"  simply  cheers,  lack- 
ing stirring  life.  But  the  Confederate  cries  were 
yells  of  an  intensely  nervous  description;  every  man 
for  himself  yelling  "Yai,  Yai,  Yi,  Yai,  Yi !"  They 
were  simply  fierce  shrieks  made  from  each  man's 
throat  individually,  and  which  cannot  be  described, 
and  cannot  be  reproduced  except  under  the  excite- 
ment of  an  assault  in  actual  battle.  I  do  not  know 
any  reason  for  this  marked  difference  unless  it  was 
in  the  more  pronounced  individuality  of  the  average 
Confederate  soldier. 

As  soon  as  our  line  charged  out  into  the  open 
field  the  Federal  artillery  opened  on  us  with  grape 
shot,  and  the  infantry  with  their  rifles.  My  eyes 
were  in  a  moment  filled  with  sand  dashed  up  by 
the  grape  which  struck  around.     I  wiped  them  with 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  59 

my  hand,  and  keeping-  them  closed  as  much  as  I 
could,  kept  on  at  a  run  until  I  suddenly  realized 
that  I  was  practically  alone.  When  I  looked  back 
I  saw  that  the  brigade,  after  getting  about  half  way 
across  the  field,  had  stopped  and  was  in  confusion. 
In  a  moment  it  broke  and  went  back  in  a  clear 
panic.  It  is  needless  to  say  I  followed.  Our  line 
was  reformed  in  the  woods,  and  I  am  glad  to  say  of 
my  own  company,  and  I  think  Captain  Matthews's, 
they  both  rallied  at  the  word  to  a  man.  Every  man 
was  in  place  except  those  who  had  fallen.  This  was 
more  than  could  be  said  for  some  of  the  other  com- 
mands of  the  brigade,  some  of  whose  men  never 
rallied,  but  went  straight  on  home  from  the  field, 
and  were  never  heard  of  again. 

Our  line  was  again  moved  forward  to  the  posi- 
tion from  which  we  had  first  driven  the  Federal 
pickets,  and  our  company  was  sent  to  the  edge  of 
the  woods  from  which  we  had  made  the  last  charge, 
and  deployed  as  pickets,  two  men  at  each  post. 
It  was  now  about  dark,  and,  while  the  Federal 
infantry  had  ceased  firing,  the  wretched  pieces  of 
artillery  never  let  up  on  us  and  kept  throwing  grape 
shot,  and  occasional  shells  into  the  woods  where 
they  knew  we  were,  making  a  terrible  racket  through 
the  tree-tops,  tearing  off  branches,  etc.  At  about 
eight  o'clock  that  night  our  lieutenant  came  running 
along  the  line  calling  for  "Ford."  As  soon  as  he 
came  to  my  post  he  told  me  that  he  had  brought 
another  man  to  take  my  place  and  that  I  was  re- 


60  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

lieved,  and  at  12  o'clock  must  go  directly  to  the  rear 
and  get  some  rations  that  were  expected,  and  cook 
them  for  the  company.  I  begged  to  be  let  off,  but 
it  was  no  go.  He  said  he  knew  I  could  cook,  and 
must  go.  So  I  laid  down  where  I  was,  with  instruc- 
tions to  my  comrade  to  awake  me  at  12  o'clock,  and 
in  an  instant  was  sound  asleep,  oblivious  to  the 
shells,  etc.,  that  the  enemy  kept  meanly  crashing 
through  the  trees  and  brush,  and  worse  still  to  the 
groans  and  cries  of  the  wounded  that  still  lay  in 
the  field  in  front  where  they  had  fallen.  After  dark 
the  occasional  screams  of  some  wounded  horses 
lying  in  our  rear  were  particularly  distressing. 
Early  in  the  afternoon  Halsey's  battery  of  flying 
artillery,  attached  to  Hampton's  cavalry,  had  held 
a  gap  in  the  line,  until  the  arrival  of  our  division, 
and  in  advancing  I  saw  probably  a  dozen  horses 
lying  dead  or  wounded  where  the  battery  had  been. 
To  this  day  I  recall  the  piteous  expressions  of  two 
or  three  of  these  wounded  horses,  as  they  raised 
their  heads  in  their  suffering  and  looked  at  us  as 
we  passed  between  them.  They  were  perfectly  quiet, 
but  it  was  only  after  dark  that  in  their  loneliness 
they  uttered  any  sounds. 

About  midnight  our  picket  line  was  withdrawn 
and  the  whole  division  moved  off  in  Egyptian  dark- 
ness somewhere,  I  never  did  know  exactly  where, 
or  really  care  either,  for  at  that  moment  I  was 
suffering  from  fever  which  afterwards  developed 
into  a  serious  illness.     At  daylight  in  a  cold  rain 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  61 

we  halted  somewhere  in  the  woods  on  the  edge  of 
another  field,  and  threw  up  breastworks,  as  we 
were  threatened  with  an  attack,  which,  however, 
was  not  made.  On  the  afternoon  of  the  21st  we 
were  hurriedly  ordered  to  hasten  across  to  the  ex- 
treme left  of  Johnston's  army  to  support  the  troops 
there  who  were  severely  pressed  by  the  Federals. 
I  was  now  so  sick  that  I  was  ordered  to  the  rear, 
but  begged  off,  and  a  comrade  offered  to  carry  my 
gun  for  me,  so  I  kept  up.  When  we  reached  the 
place  our  line  was  formed  with  our  company  on 
the  extreme  left  resting  on  the  edge  of  Mill  Creek. 
I  was  really  so  ill  that  I  could  not  stand  in  line  for 
any  length  of  time,  and  requested  permission  of  my 
lieutenant  to  lie  down  in  ranks,  so  as  to  be  in  place 
when  the  assault  came.  He  ordered  me  to  the  rear, 
but  I  succeeded  in  begging  off  again,  and  lay  down 
in  line.  I  was  asleep  instantly.  The  next  thing 
I  knew  I  was  being  dragged  by  the  feet,  and  heard 
some  one  say,  "What  are  you  going  to  do  with 
that  dead  man?"  "Going  to  throw  him  in  the 
creek^."  was  the  reply.  I  opened  my  eyes  and  said, 
"I  am  not  dead,  but  only  sick.  What  is  the  matter? 
Where  are  our  men?"  Looking  around  I  saw  that 
it  was  early  dawn,  and  the  place  was  deserted  except 
by  two  of  our  cavalry  videttes,  one  of  whom  said, 
"If  you  have  life  enough  left  you  had  better  ske- 
daddle, for  the  Yanks  will  be  here  in  five  minutes. 


62  LIFE  IN   THE   CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

We  are  the  last  of  the  cavalry."  I  picked  myself  up, 
and  got  across  Mill  Creek  bridge  just  as  the  Fed- 
eral troops  began  to  appear. 

I  believe  I  was  the  last  infantryman  to  get  across 
it,  and  it  was  the  only  bridge  across  the  creek. 
As  I  went  across  I  noticed  a  lot  of  Wheeler's  cavalry 
on  the  north  bank  of  the  creek,  evidently  to  hold 
the  bridge,  and  I  could  see  the  Federals  in  the  dis- 
tance, just  on  the  top  of  the  hill  on  the  south  side. 
I  suspected  what  was  coming,  and,  as  I  had  received 
no  invitation  to  an  early  morning  entertainment, 
kept  on  my  way.  The  road  on  the  north  side  of  the 
bridge  inclined  sharply  to  the  left,  so  I  was  soon 
out  of  the  line  of  fire,  but  heard  the  scrimmage  as 
the  Federals  assaulted  Wheeler's  men  and  endeav- 
ored to  capture  the  bridge.  They  were  repulsed, 
but  not  before  three  of  their  color-bearers  had  fallen 
within  fifty  feet  of  the  Confederate  line. 

It  seemed  that  Johnston's  army  had  retreated 
during  the  night,  and  in  the  darkness  my  comrades 
had  overlooked  me  asleep  on  the  ground.  At  about 
noon  I  caught  up  with  my  command  where  it  had 
halted  about  two  miles  from  the  creek.  In  this 
battle  of  Bentonville,  Johnston  with  only  14.100 
men,  all  told,  fought  Sherman  with  about  40,000  the 
first  day,  and  70,000  the  second.  The  Confederate 
losses  were  2,400  and  the  Federal  4.000. 

I  had  become  so  ill  now  that  I  could  hold  out  no 
longer,  and  reported  to  the  surgeon,  and  at  eight 
o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  23rd  was  driven  in 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  63 

an  ambulance  to  a  railway  station  and  put  with  a 
lot  of  sick  and  wounded  men  on  a  train  for  Greens- 
boro. I  had  had  nothing  to  eat  since  about  noon  the 
day  before,  and  when  we  got  to  Raleigh  I  got  off 
and  went  to  a  near-by  little  cottage,  where  I  saw 
a  woman  at  the  door,  and  told  her  that  I  was  really 
very  sick,  and  very  hungry,  and  begged  her  for 
something  to  eat.  I  had  not  a  cent  of  money.  She 
told  me  pathetically  that  she  had  fed  nearly  all  she 
had  to  the  soldiers,  but  had  a  potato  pie,  and  if  I 
could  eat  that  I  would  be  welcome  to  it.  I  took  it 
gratefully  and  it  was  the  nicest  potato  pie  I  ever  saw, 
before  or  since.  We  reached  Greensboro  at  dark, 
making  about  90  miles  run  in  ten  hours,  very  good 
for  the  speed  of  railway  trains  at  that  time.  At 
Greensboro  the  court-house  was  used  as  the  hospi- 
tal, all  the  benches,  desks,  etc.,  being  removed.  We 
had  no  mattresses  nor  bedding  of  any  kind,  and 
about  200  of  us  were  laid  off  in  rows  on  the  floor, 
with  only  our  own  blankets  that  we  brought  with 
us.  After  looking  over  the  accommodations  I  se- 
lected the  platform  inside  of  the  rail,  where  the 
judge's  desk  used  to  be,  for  my  place,  and  went  out 
into  the  street  and  begged  an  armful  of  hay  from 
a  wagon,  and  with  two  bricks  for  a  pillow  made 
my  bed.  Here  I  lay  for  about  three  weeks  with 
fever,  and  at  times  really  very  ill.  Three  times  a 
day  the  ladies  of  the  town  came  and  brought  us 
food,  and  were  devoted  in  their  attentions.  I  got  to 
be  very  weak,  and  on  April  14th  I  told  the  surgeon 


64  LIFE  IN   THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

that  I  was  certainly  getting  worse,  and  believed  I 
would  die  if  I  stayed  where  I  was.  His  cold  reply 
was,  "I  believe  you  will."  I  then  asked  to  be  allowed 
to  go  home.  He  said,  "You  will  die  before  you  have 
been  out  of  the  hospital  twenty-four  hours,"  to 
which  I  replied,  "It  is  all  the  same  with  me.  I  would 
as  lieve  die  in  the  bushes  as  here.  Only  let  me  make 
the  attempt."  Thereupon  he  gave  me  my  furlough, 
and  at  daylight  the  next  morning  I  put  my  blanket 
around  me  and  walked  right  out  into  a  drizzly  rain. 
The  railroad  was  torn  up  between  Greensboro  and 
Salisbury,  so  I  walked  along  the  track,  and  the 
next  day  reached  High  Point,  and  at  that  place  met 
one  of  my  comrades,  who  was  in  the  hospital  there. 
He  smuggled  me  in  and  gave  me  a  night's  lodging 
under  his  blanket,  and  shared  his  scanty  supper  with 
me.  The  next  day  I  struck  out  again,  and  after 
three  or  four  more  days  walking  reached  Salisbury, 
about  thirty  miles  farther,  where  I  again  found 
another  comrade  in  the  hospital  at  that  place.  With 
the  exception  of  the  night  I  had  spent  at  Hig'h  Point, 
it  was  my  habit,  when  night  overtook  me,  to  step 
aside  into  the  bushes  and  sleep  until  morning.  What 
food  I  got  was  only  what  I  begged  at  the  farm- 
houses on  the  way. 

At  the  Yadkin  River  I  found  that  the  bridge  had 
not  been  burned.  It  seems  that  the  Federal  General 
Stoneman  had  been  raiding  that  section  of  country 
and  had  attempted  to  burn  this  bridge,  but  had  been 
driven  off  by  a   Confederate   force  under  Genetal 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  65 

Pettus,  and  some  cavalry.  Just  as  I  approached  it, 
President  Jefferson  Davis,  with  quite  a  party,  came 
riding  by.  He  was  sitting  gracefully  erect  on  his 
horse,  and  courteously  returned  our  salutes.  This 
was  the  one  occasion  on  which  I  saw  the  President. 
We  were  quite  a  large  number  of  men  along  the 
roadside,  and  one  of  the  President's  party,  a  cap- 
tain, rode  up  to  my  group  and  asked  if  we  were 
willing  to  go  on  across  the  Mississippi  and  continue 
the  war  there?  Many  of  us,  I  among  them,  volun- 
teered to  go,  but  we  heard  nothing  more  of  it.  It 
seems  that  this  really  was  Mr.  Davis's  plan,  and  he 
was  so  much  set  on  it,  that  as  late  as  April  25  he 
suggested  to  General  Johnston  that  instead  of  sur- 
rendering to  General  Sherman,  he  should  disband 
his  infantry,  with  instructions  to  them  to  ren- 
dezvous at  some  appointed  place  across  the  Missis- 
sippi, and  to  bring  off  his  cavalry  and  all  his  horses 
and  light  pieces  of  artillery.  As  is  well  known, 
General  Johnston  fully  realized  the  absolute  hope- 
lessness of  the  struggle  and  deliberately  disobeyed 
his  instructions,  and  surrendered  to  General  Sher- 
man the  next  day.  When  one  looks  back  upon  the 
condition  of  things  then  as  they  must  have  been 
known  to  the  highest  Confederate  authorities,  it 
seems  almost  incredible  that  such  an  impracticable 
idea  as  continuing  the  war  across  the  Mississippi 
could  have  been  entertained  for  a  moment. 

At  Salisbury  a  comrade,  who  had  been  also  for 
three  years  my  messmate  and  chum,  joined  me,  and 
we  traveled  from  there  as  far  as  Chester,  S.  C, 


66  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

where  our  ways  parted.  Strange  to  say,  it  seemed 
to  me  that  I  began  to  improve  from  the  moment 
I  left  the  hospital.  I  had  a  strong  fever  on  me,  but 
was  bent  on  getting  home.  At  Salisbury  an  amus- 
ing event  occurred.  This  was  about  April  19.  Lee's 
army  had  been  surrendered  ten  days  before,  and 
the  first  lot  of  his  men,  probably  300  or  so,  now 
came  along,  and  learning  that  there  was  a  Confed- 
erate storehouse  here  with  supplies  of  food  and 
clothing,  determined  to  help  themselves.  I  joined 
the  crowd  to  get  my  share.  The  warehouse  was 
guarded  by  about  a  dozen  boys  of  the  home  guard, 
who  protested  violently;  but  they  were  just  swept 
one  side,  and  the  door  was  broken  open,  and  every 
man  helped  himself  to  what  he  wanted  or  needed. 
I  got  a  handful  of  Confederate  money,  a  pair  of 
shoes,  some  flour  and  bacon,  a  pair  of  socks,  and 
a  small  roll  of  jeans.  This  roll  of  cloth  I  carried 
clear  home  across  my  shoulders,  and  when  I  reached 
Aiken,  in  May,  exchanged  it  with  the  baker  for  one 
hundred  bread  tickets,  which  provided  our  family 
with  bread  for  the  rest  of  the  summer. 

The  railway  for  a  short  distance  from  Salisbury 
was  intact,  and  here  we  discovered  an  engine  and 
two  box-cars  waiting  for  President  Davis  and  the 
Confederate  Cabinet.  The  crowd  of  soldiers  deter- 
mined to  seize  this  train,  and  we  told  the  engineer 
that  he  must  either  carry  us  as  far  as  he  could,  and 
then  come  back  for  the  President,  or  we  would  put 
him  off  and  take  the  train  ourselves.  He  yielded  to 
force,  and  carried  us  about  20  miles.     We  then  got 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  67 

off,  and  he  went  back.  This  led  to  an  amusing 
experience  a  couple  of  days  later.  There  was  another 
section  of  torn-up  track,  and  then  another  place 
where  another  engine  and  one  box-car  were  in  wait- 
ing again  for  the  President  and  Cabinet.  The  crowd 
had  dwindled  down  very  much  now,  so  compara- 
tively only  a  few  of  us  were  on  hand.  These,  I 
among  them,  at  once  clambered  up  on  top  of  the  car, 
and  sat  there.  Presently  I  saw  Gen.  Sam  Cooper 
approaching  with  a  squad  of  about  a  dozen  boys, 
home  guards  as  they  were  called.  He  halted  them 
within  a  dozen  paces  of  the  car,  and  then  gave  the 
orders,  "ready,  aim,"  and  we  had  a  dozen  old  mus- 
kets pointed  at  us.  Then  shaking  his  finger  at  us 
he  said,  "You  scoundrels,  you  are  the  men  who  stole 
that  train  day  before  yesterday.  If  you  do  not  drop 
off  that  car  I'll  blow  you  to  hell."  We  dropped.  In 
jumping  down,  my  tin  bucket,  captured  at  Benton- 
ville,  was  crushed  against  the  side  of  the  car.  The 
spoon  was  in  my  haversack,  and  I  have  it  still — 
1904.  I  thought  to  myself,  however,  "Old  cock, 
I'll  get  even  with  you.  I  have  a  scheme  you  don't 
know  about."  Going  off  a  few  steps  I  said  to  my 
chum,  "Just  let's  wait  here  until  the  Cabinet  arrives. 
I  bet  that  we  two  at  least  will  get  back  on  that  car." 
We  lounged  around  for  an  hour  or  two,  and  pres- 
ently the  wagons  appeared  with  the  Cabinet.  I  knew 
that  Mrs.  Geo.  A.  Trenholm,  the  wife  of  the  Con- 
federate Secretary  of  the  Treasury,  was  along,  and 
being  a  Charlestonian,  who  knew  my  family,  I  felt 
sure  that  when  I  made  myself  known  she  would 


68  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

help  me.  True  enough,  as  soon  as  I  made  myself 
known  to  her  she  spoke  to  General  Cooper,  and  four 
of  us  were  given  permission  to  ride  on  top  of  the 
car,  one  at  each  corner,  with  our  legs  dangling  over, 
for  the  top  of  the  car  in  the  middle  was  smashed  in. 
Mrs.  Trenholm  also  kindly  gave  me  a  half  loaf  of 
bread  and  the  half  of  a  chicken. 

We  jolted  along  in  this  way  over  the  good  section 
of  the  road,  until  we  came  to  the  next  break,  when 
we  got  off,  and  after  tendering  our  thanks  plodded 
along  on  foot  again. 

Gen.  Sam '1  S.  Cooper  was  Adjutant-General  of 
the  Confederate  Army,  and  the  senior  in  rank  of 
Gen.  Robert  E.  Lee,  and  was  a  Pennsylvanian.  He 
ranked  Lee  in  the  Confederate  service;  and  in  the 
Federal  Army  before  the  war  he  also  ranked  the 
great  Confederate  commander,  he  having  been 
Adjutant-General  of  the  United  States  Army. 

At  Chester  I  parted  with  my  companions,  as  our 
routes  diverged.  I  walked  from  that  town  to  New- 
berry, where  I  met  one  of  my  comrades,  whose  fam- 
ily lived  there.  He  took  me  to  his  house,  and  I 
stayed  there  two  days.  Upon  my  departure  he  saw 
that  my  haversack  was  well  filled  with  provisions. 

The  railway  was  intact  from  Newberry  to  Abbe- 
ville, so  I  got  a  lift  that  far. 

While  making  my  way  through  the  country  I  was 
always  treated  with  much  hospitality  by  all  the 
people  along  my  route.  There  was  only  one  excep- 
tion. This  was  in  Chester  County,  when  one  day, 
with  my  haversack  empty,  and  hunger  calling  impa- 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  69 

tiently,  I  stopped  at  a  farm-house  and  asked  for 
some  food,  offering  to  pay  for  it.  The  respectable- 
looking  man  whom  I  addressed  asked  me  what  kind 
of  money  I  had.  I  said,  "Only  Confederate  money." 
He  replied,  "I  won't  take  anything  except  gold  or 
silver  and  have  no  food  to  give  away,"  and  shut 
the  door  in  my  face.  I  inquired  of  some  negroes, 
as  I  walked  off,  and  was  told  he  was  a  very  well- 
to-do  man,  and  a  preacher ! 

In  striking  contrast  was  the  treatment  by  a  poor 
farmer's  wife  the  same  day.  I  stopped  at  a  small 
farm-house  by  the  roadside,  and  in  response  to  my 
call  a  woman  opened  the  house  door,  and  looking 
out  cautiously  asked  who  I  was.  I  replied,  "I  am  a 
Confederate  soldier  trying  to  get  home.  I  am  sick, 
and  want  something  to  eat."  She  called  out,  "You 
got  smallpox?"  "No,"  I  said.  Again  she  asked, 
"You  got  the  measles?"  "No,  I've  got  only  fever, 
and  only  want  to  rest;  and  if  you  have  anything  to 
spare,  something  to  eat."  She  then  told  me  to  come 
into  the  house,  and  showing  me  into  the  back  porch, 
spread  a  comfort  on  the  floor  with  a  pillow,  and  said, 
"My  husband  got  back  from  the  army  just  yester- 
day, and  went  to  town  this  morning.  I  am  sorry, 
but  there's  not  a  scrap  of  meat  in  the  house,  only 
some  veal  which  he  killed  this  morning.  Now  you 
just  lie  down  and  take  a  rest  while  I  cook  you  some 
veal,  and  corn  bread."  I  laid  down,  and  was  soon 
asleep.  After  a  while  the  good  woman  aroused  me, 
and  led  the  way  to  the  table,  where  she  had  prepared 
some  veal  chops  and  corn  bread  for  me,  which  I  ate 


70  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

with  relish.  She  refused  to  receive  any  pay,  as  she 
said  she  "could  not  receive  pay  from  a  soldier." 
So  giving  her  my  warm  thanks  I  resumed  my  route 
toward  Newberry. 

At  Abbeville  I  went  into  a  drug  store  and  invested 
$30  in  a  toothbrush. 

I  had  chosen  this  route  to  avoid  the  section  devas- 
tated by  Sherman.  From  Abbeville  my  route  lay 
through  Washington  and  Augusta,  Ga.,  to  Aiken, 
where  my  family  were,  and  which  I  reached  early 
in  May.  When  passing  through  Augusta  I  went  to 
the  quartermaster's  department  and  drew  my  pay, 
amounting  to  $156.  This  was  the  first  pay  I  had 
received  for  a  year,  and  of  course  it  was  absolutely 
worthless,  but  upon  my  arrival  at  Aiken  I  found  a 
man  who  accepted  $50  of  it  for  a  bottle  of  very 
crude  corn  whiskey.  The  remainder  of  this  pay  is 
still  in  my  desk. 

On  April  26,  1865,  General  Johnston's  army  was 
surrendered  to  General  Sherman  near  Durham  Sta- 
tion, N.  C.,  thus  putting  an  end  to  the  war  within 
the  limits  of  their  respective  commands.  At  that 
time  General  Johnston  had  26,000  men  on  his  roll, 
as  many  of  the  remnants  of  the  Army  of  the  Tennes- 
see and  others  from  Wilmington  had  joined  his 
command.  Of  these,  2,000  had  no  arms  of  any  kind. 
General  Sherman  had  110,000  men  effective.  John- 
ston's army  had  consumed  their  last  rations  when 
it  was  surrendered,  and  General  Sherman,  when 
informed  of  its  condition,  ordered  250,000  rations 
immediately  distributed,  or  about  ten  days'  rations 


LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY  71 

to  each  Confederate  soldier.  General  Johnston  in 
his  "Narrative"  says  that  if  this  had  not  been  done 
great  suffering-  would  have  ensued. 

The  great  war  was  at  an  end,  and  the  following 
figures  show  the  fearful  odds  we  fought  against. 

During  the  four  years  the  United  States  put  about 
3,000,000  men  in  the  field,  of  whom  720,000  were 
foreigners.  They  lost  in  killed,  in  battle,  and  from 
disease,  366,000,  or  about  12  per  cent. 

The  Confederate  States  had  only  about  625,000 
men,  all  told,  from  first  to  last.  Of  these  there  were 
killed  in  battle,  and  died  from  disease,  349,000,  or 
about  56  per  cent. 

At  the  close  the  United  States  had  1,050,000 
men  in  active  service,  and  the  Confederate  States 
139,000.    We  were  fighting  odds  of  over  7  to  1. 

The  day  after  my  arrival  at  home  the  first  Federal 
troops  arrived  from  Charleston  to  garrison  the  town 
of  Aiken.  They  were  a  company  of  negroes,  com- 
manded by  a  German  captain,  who  spoke  very  broken 
English.  I  soon  learned  that  it  was  a  part  of  the 
force  that  had  assaulted  us  on  James  Island  and 
from  the  officers  I  heard  their  side  of  the  affair. 
This  was  the  beginning  of  that  era  of  reconstruction 
which,  for  eleven  years,  was  a  course  of  negro  domi- 
nation, corruption,  robbery,  and  outrages;  and 
which  steadily  increased  in  intensity  until  in  1876 
it  was  overthrown  by  the  general  uprising  of  the 
white  people.    But  this  is  another  subject. 


SOME  EXPERIENCES  AND  SKETCHES 
OF  SOUTHERN   LIFE 


BY  MARION  JOHNSTONE  FORD 


KENT— A  WAR-TIME  NEGRO 

"An  African  Morgan — a  citizen  whose  name  we 
shall  not  mention,  although  many  readers  know  and 
will  recognize  the  case — was  surprised  some  days 
ago  by  the  entrance  of  a  good  servant,  who  was 
supposed  to  be,  if  living  at  all,  in  Yankee  hands  at 
Knoxville.  This  servant  went  cheerfully,  of  course, 
or  he  would  not  have  been  sent,  to  wait  on  'Young 
Massa,'  who  is  under  Brigadier-General  Jenkins,  in 
Longstreet's  corps. 

"In  the  retreat  from  Knoxville,  he  was  accidentally 
wounded,  and  necessarily  left  behind. 

"When  taken  to  Knoxville,  he  was  questioned  by 
General  Foster,  well  known  for  his  connection  as 
engineer  with  Fort  Sumter,  which  has  done  more 
than  he  desired  or  expected  for  the  defense  of 
Charleston. 

"Being  asked  his  master's  name,  the  man  replied, 
when  General  Foster  condescendingly  said :  'Oh, 
yes ;  I  knew  him  when  I  was  at  Sumter.  You  know 
that  you  are  now  free  and  have  no  master.'     We 


--Si/ffv**^     jrhwU^*    /pr w*sy^    y 


KENT A   WAR-TIME    NEGRO  73 

need  not  report  the  further  conversation,  or  the  con- 
duct of  the  servant.  Suffice  it  to  say  he  did  not — 
like  some  of  our  gossiping  friends  in  uniform — talk 
to  everybody  about  his  intention,  but  at  the  first 
promising  opportunity  he  took  French  leave  of 
Yankee  friends  and  freedom  in  Knoxville,  and  not 
knowing  then  where  to  find  or  reach  his  'Young 
Master,'  he  struck,  according  to  his  best  information, 
for  the  'Old  Master'  and  the  'home  place.' 

"He  was  compelled  to  walk  over  one  hundred  and 
fifty  miles,  and  in  great  part  over  the  route  travelled 
lately  by  General  Morgan,  and  succeeded  in  reaching 
a  railroad,  which  gave  him  a  lift  toward  this  city. 

"We  would  have  more  such  cases  if  opportunities 
could  be  found." 

— Charleston,  S.  C,  Courier,  January  19,  1863. 

This  Kent  was  not  of  blood  royal,  as  his  name 
might  indicate;  he  came  of  a  dusky  African  brood, 
but  his  loyalty  and  faithfulness  would  have  done 
credit  to  any  race.  How  he  got  his  name  I  do  not 
know,  but  it  was  a  relief  to  the  ear  after  those  his 
mother  had  chosen  for  his  brothers — "Cully"  and 
"Hackless."  Whether  the  latter  was  intended  for 
Hercules,  neither  Martha,  their  mother,  nor  any  one 
else  knew. 

Kent  was  the  flower  of  his  flock  as  regarded  his 
appearance,  being  tall  and  slender,  with  shiny  black 
skin  and  unusually  high  features  for  a  negro.  He 
seemed  to  justify  his  mother's  boast  that  she  was 


74  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

"no  low-blooded  negro,  but  was  of  a  good  family  in 
Africa."  And  she  really  had  some  foundation  for 
this  unusual  pride  among  her  race,  for  our  grand- 
mother, who  died  at  a  great  age  many  years  ago,  was 
fond  of  telling  among  the  incidents  of  her  childhood, 
that  once  when  a  shipload  of  Africans  was  brought 
to  her  native  city  for  sale,  her  husband  went  to  pur- 
chase some  for  his  plantation,  and  among  several  he 
brought  back  "Katura,"  Martha's  ancestress.  After 
the  usual  process  of  shutting  them  up  until  they  could 
be  induced  to  wear  clothes,  she,  with  the  others,  was 
sent  up  to  the  plantation.  When  they  arrived  there 
and  began  to  mingle  with  the  other  negroes,  one  of 
those  that  had  been  bought  some  time  before,  at  the 
sight  of  "Katura,"  rushed  forward  and  prostrated 
herself  at  her  feet  with  every  mark  of  affection  and 
respect.  She  could  speak  English  and  explained  to 
the  astonished  onlookers  that  this  was  a  princess  in 
her  country,  who  had  been  sold  by  her  uncle  to 
the  slave-traders.  It  seemed  a  barbaric  romance. 
Katura,  however,  took  kindly  to  civilization,  and 
soon  settled  herself  in  her  new  position  with  no 
undue  repining.  In  time  she  was  comforted  by  a 
partner,  and  brought  into  the  world  numerous 
progeny,  who  were  noted  for  their  integrity  and 
fidelity  unto  the  fifth  generation,  which  brings  us  to 
that  of  Kent. 

When  the  great  war  broke  out,  and  all  the  men  and 
youths  were  joining  the  army,  our  hearts  were  heavy, 
and  we  felt  full  of  sad  forebodings  at  Otranto,  our 


KENT A    WAR-TIME    NEGRO  75 

country  home,  where  parting  and  sorrow  had  never 
come.  We  were  a  large  band  of  girls,  with  one 
young  brother,  the  idol  of  our  hearts,  and  the  apple 
of  our  parents'  eyes.  Like  everybody  in  those  days, 
we  were  very  patriotic,  but  when  it  dawned  upon  us 
that  Harry  must  shoulder  his  rifle  and  go  to  Virginia 
we  felt  that  love  of  country  cost  us  dear.  Harry 
completed  his  sixteenth  year  the  April  after  the 
secession  of  South  Carolina,  and  as  there  was  no 
doubt  that  his  college  days  were  over,  as  he  would 
not  study,  we  were  not  surprised  when  the  day  after 
his  birthday,  he  galloped  up  the  avenue,  dashed  into 
the  room  where  we  were  sitting,  upsetting  a  chair, 
and  exclaimed : 

"How  soon  can  you  get  me  ready,  girls?  I  joined 
the  Hampton  Legion  this  morning,  and  we  are  off  to 
Virginia, — Hurrah !" 

"Hush,  Harry!"  exclaimed  our  eldest  sister;  "pick 
up  that  chair;  don't  you  see  mother  is  faint?" 

"No,  it  is  past,"  murmured  our  mother,  trying  to 
smile,  as  we  all  turned  to  her.  "God  bless  and  keep 
you,  my  boy.  I  expected  you  to  enlist ;  you  could 
not  do  otherwise,  and  now,"  stifling  a  sigh,  "I  must 
think  of  your  outfit,  and  you  must  take  a  servant  too. 
I  wonder  which  will  be  best." 

"A  private  with  a  servant  seems  an  anomaly," 
laughingly  said  Harry.  "But  I  believe  several  of  the 
boys  have  men,  and  anything  to  ease  your  mind, 
mother  dear." 


76  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

"Our  minds  must  learn  to  do  without  ease,  as  well 
as  our  bodies,  I  fear,  in  the  days  that  lie  before  us," 
she  answered,  stroking  his  curly  head  as  he  knelt  by 
her  chair;  "but  we  must  act,  and  not  think  now." 

The  days  that  followed  were  busy  ones.  The 
difficulty  was  not  what  was  needed,  but  what  could 
be  carried.  It  was  an  exciting  novelty  to  pack  a 
knapsack,  and  its  small  capacity  was  a  constant  check 
to  our  zeal.  Harry's  constant  reminder,  "I  will 
have  to  march  with  that  on  my  back,  nobody  knows 
how  far,"  brought  a  pang  to  our  hearts.  It  was 
decided  that  he  should  take  a  "body-servant" — the 
old-fashioned  Southern  rendering  of  the  French  term 
"valet."  After  much  deliberation  and,  I  fear,  heart 
burning  among  the  servants,  for  in  this,  as  in  other 
instances,  the  post  of  danger  was  also  that  of  honor, 
Kent  was  selected,  much  to  his  own  and  his  mother's 
gratification. 

The  day  appointed  for  the  company  to  which 
Harry  belonged  to  join  the  Legion  in  Virginia  came 
all  too  soon.  He  shouldered  his  knapsack,  and  tore 
himself  from  us,  followed  by  his  colored  attendant, 
with  whom  we  all  shook  hands  and  whom  we  urged 
to  "take  care  of  Mas'  Harry." 

"Yes,  Missus,"  he  responded,  looking  preter- 
naturally  solemn. 

Of  course  Harry  left  a  great  gap  behind  him,  but 
we  tried  to  excel  each  other  in  efforts  at  cheerfulness, 
and  bright  prognostications  as  to  his  future  career  as 
a  soldier.     We  succeeded   only   tolerably   in   these 


KENT A    WAR-TIME    NEGRO  77 

laudable  efforts,  when  Martha  waddled  in — she  was 
our  cook,  and  a  decided  character  in  her  way.  I 
believe,  next  to  our  mother,  she  thought  herself  of 
first  importance  among  the  feminine  part  of  the 
household.  She  gave  a  keen  glance  at  our  mother, 
whom  she  idolized. 

"Well,  Missus,"  she  said,  dropping  a  little  curtsy, 
"I  come  to  see  how  you  gettin'  on.  You  all  looks 
pretty  blue,  but  I  'clare  to  gracious  there's  no 
'casion  to  fret.  Nuttin'  gwine  to  hu't  Mas'  Harry 
w'en  Kent  gone  to  tak'  care  ov  him.  Missus,  you 
dunno  how  smart  dat  boy  is ;  an'  I  jus'  tell  him,  'Mas' 
Harry  tinks  he's  a  man  and  a  soger,  but  you  know 
he  ain't  nuttin'  but  a  baby,  an'  a  ma-baby  at  dat.' 
An'  I  jus'  tell  him  he  need  not  to  come  home  if  he 
let  anyt'ing  hu't  Mas'  Harry.  So  don't  you  fret, 
Missus." 

"But  how  could  Kent  prevent  Harry's  being 
wounded  or  hurt,  Martha  ?"  I  asked. 

"Now,  Miss  Sallie,  don't  you  go  for  to  talk  non- 
sense," responded  the  old  woman.  "An'  your  ma 
always  says  w'ere  dere  is  a  will  dere  is  a  way.  Well, 
dat's  what  I  tells  Kent,  an'  I  tells  Affy,  de  gal  he's 
courtin',  it's  no  use  for  she  to  fret,  fur  'less  Kent 
brings  Mas'  Harry  back  safe,  dere  won't  be  no 
weddin'  fur  him." 

"Oh,"  I  said,  "he  is  courting,  is  he  ?  That  is  why 
he  looked  so  serious  when  he  left." 

"It  looks  so,  Missy.  He  tell  me  to  look  sharp  at 
her,  an'  see  if  she  notice  anybody  while  he  is  gone. 


78  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

An'  I  will — an'  let  her  know,  too,  if  she  do,"  she 
muttered  as  she  left  the  room. 

Harry  saw  much  active  service,  was  in  many 
battles,  and  fortunately  escaped  with  only  one 
wound.  He  told  us  in  his  letters  of  Kent's  faithful 
following,  and  attendance  on  long  marches,  and  after 
a  battle  he  always  found  him  looking  anxiously 
for  him,  with  something  to  eat  as  nice  as  he  could  get. 
Indeed,  he  was  a  wonderful  provider,  but  Harry  was 
by  no  means  sure  that  Kent  could  have  made  good 
his  claim  to  many  of  the  eatables  he  set  before  him, 
for  his  conscience  was  an  elastic  one  as  to  the 
rights  of  property  in  food.  So  long  as  he  got  what 
he  wanted  for  Harry,  he  stopped  neither  to  buy,  beg 
nor  borrow,  but  helped  himself.  His  kindness  of 
heart,  ready  wit,  and  readiness  to  lend  a  helping  hand 
to  any  one  in  need  made  him  a  general  favorite  in 
the  company,  where  he  was  noted  for  the  care  he 
took  of  his  young  master. 

The  years  of  the  war  sped  on,  and  brought 
privations  and  sorrows  which  each  year  seemed  to 
intensify.  Our  home  was  no  longer  the  bright  place 
it  used  to  be,  for  we  had  lost  many  friends,  and  self- 
denial  was  the  order  of  the  day.  YVe  were  very  busy, 
too,  and  that  helped  to  keep  us  cheerful. 

There  were  new  accomplishments  to  acquire.  We 
learned,  and  taught  our  maids,  to  card  and  spin  the 
home-grown  wool,  and  when  that  did  not  suffice  for 
the  extraordinary  demand  we  had  supernumerary 
wool  mattresses  ripped  up;  the  ticking  was  consid- 


KENT A    WAR-TIME    NEGRO  79 

ered  to  make  handsome  frocks  for  the  servants,  and 
the  wool  when  dyed  and  woven  made  excellent 
homespun  suits  for  ourselves,  that  were  not  to  be 
despised  for  durability  and  warmth.  There  was 
quite  a  rivalry  as  to  who  could  make  the  prettiest 
dyes  for  our  dresses,  but  after  a  time  black  was  most 
worn.  Then  we  had  our  old  light  kid  gloves  to  ink 
over  carefully,  so  that  we  might  not  go  barehanded 
to  church.  We  thought  those  gloves  a  great  success 
when  we  first  dyed  them,  but  when  we  came  to  wear 
them,  the  ink  never  seemed  to  dry,  and  would  soak 
through,  and  dye  our  hands  most  uncomfortably. 
Our  greatest  achievement  after  all,  I  think,  was  the 
piles  of  socks  we  knitted  by  the  lightwood  blaze  at 
night.  Our  old-fashioned  butler  always  placed  a 
candle — a  tallow  one,  or  still  worse,  a  home-made 
myrtle  wax  one — upon  the  table,  but  we  considered 
it  an  extravagance  to  light  it  unless  there  was  some- 
thing urgent  to  read.  I  am  surprised  now  that  we 
did  not  mind  the  heat  of  the  blaze  more  in  summer, 
but  I  do  not  remember  our  thinking  of  it.  There 
was  one  great  spasm  of  patriotism  when  every 
worsted  curtain  in  the  house  was  cut  into  soldiers' 
shirts.  Some  of  these  were  of  brilliant  colors  and 
patterns,  and  I  cannot  but  think  might  have  served 
as  targets  for  bullets.  We  even  undressed  the  piano 
and  converted  its  cover  into  a  blanket  for  a  soldier. 
We  were  chagrined  afterwards  to  hear  from  some 
of  our  friends  who  had  done  the  same  thing,  that 
the  latest  advice  from  the  field  was  that  the  soldiers 


80  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

found  the  garments,  so  improvised,  very  unsatis- 
factory, and  begged  the  ladies  not  to  sacrifice  their 
belongings  so  recklessly. 

There  were  no  plum  puddings  or  mince  pies  in 
those  days,  according  to  the  accepted  recipes,  but  we 
made  Confederate  fruit  cake  with  dried  peaches  and 
apples  instead  of  raisins  and  currants,  with  sorghum 
for  sugar ;  and  potato  pones  and  puddings  were  very 
frequent,  and  both  dishes  had  the  merit  of  a  little 
going  a  long  way,  especially  after  the  supply  of 
ginger  gave  out. 

We  never  had  any  use  for  the  potato,  peas,  ground- 
nut, or  any  sort  of  mock  coffee,  but  we  drank  orange 
leaf,  or  sage  tea  in  preference  to  any  other  home- 
made beverage.  We  managed  to  keep  a  little  store 
of  genuine  tea  for  medicine,  and  when  our  mother 
pronounced  any  of  us  ill  enough  to  need  a  little 
coddling,  what  a  treat  it  was !  The  invalid  never 
would  consent  to  partake,  unless  it  was  a  family  tea 
party.     What  enjoyment  those  occasions  gave ! 

In  the  latter  part  of  '63  we  were  distressed  to  hear 
from  Harry  that  he  was  ill  in  the  hospital  in 
Tennessee.  He  wrote :  "I  think  we  are  falling  back. 
Kent  is  ill  with  pneumonia,  and  the  worst  of  it  is 
that  if  we  fall  back  I  have  no  means  of  transportation 
for  him ;  it  will  be  hard  to  have  to  leave  him." 

Dire  was  the  distress  that  letter  brought  us.  We 
waited  anxiously  for  further  news.     Harry  brought 


KENT A    WAR-TIME    NEGRO  81 

it  himself.  He  had  been  ill,  and  was  sent  home  on 
furlough.  He  looked  worn,  and  very  unlike  the 
bright  boy  who  had  left  us. 

"What  of  Kent?"  we  asked. 

"I  had  to  leave  him,"  he  said.  "I  could  not  help 
it.  We  were  falling  back  rapidly.  Many  were  left 
in  the  hospitals,  and  are  now  prisoners.  It  was  only 
through  my  captain  being  such  a  friend  of  father's, 
and  stirring  himself  to  get  me  a  place  in  an  ambu- 
lance, that  I  was  not  left.  I  dragged  myself  to  see 
the  good  fellow,  although  I  could  scarcely  walk.  He 
was  very  sick,  and  distressed  to  part  with  me.  I 
told  him  the  enemy  would  be  in  town  that  night,  and 
he  would  be  free.  He  said,  'Mas'  Harry,  that  is 
nothing  to  me;  if  you  don't  see  me  home,  you 
will  know  I  am  dead.  Tell  Missus,  and  Ma,  and 
Affy  so.'  " 

Martha  was  given  the  message,  but  our  conscien- 
tious mother  added  :  "But,  Martha,  if  you  do  not  see 
him  you  need  not  be  sure  he  is  not  living;  but  you 
must  not  count  too  much  on  seeing  him,  for  if  he 
gets  well  he  will  doubtless  be  tempted  to  stay,  and 
try  a  new  experience." 

The  old  woman  twirled  the  corners  of  her  apron, 
as  she  said  sadly :  "Missus,  it  is  five  generations 
since  my  fam'ly  come  from  Africa,  and  Mausser's 
from  France ;  we's  been  togedder  since  dat  time,  an' 
been  fait'ful  togedder;  for  once  w'en  times  was  hard 
wid  Mausser,  he  mout  hab  sold  us,  but  he  didn't. 
He  kep'  us  all  togedder,  an'  you  tink  Kent  such  a 


82  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

fool  as  not  to  know  clat,  an'  be  happy  'mong 
strangers?  He  got  to  work  w'erebber  he  is,  an' 
nobody  gwine  to  consider  him  like  you  all.  No, 
ma'am,  if  he  alive  I'm  lookin'  for  him,  w'atever  it 
seems  like  to  you,  ma'am."  And  she  bobbed  her 
curtsy  and  walked  oft,  leaving  her  mistress  feeling 
quite  small. 

Harry  remained  with  us  for  some  weeks.  It  was 
pleasant  to  see  his  enjoyment  of  home  fare,  even  in 
its  pruned  condition.  Everything  seemed  luxurious 
after  the  camp  life;  but  he  did  not  linger  after  he 
was  well  enough  to  return  to  the  army.  There  still 
was  no  news  of  Kent.  Harry  refused  to  take 
another  servant  in  his  place,  although  urged  to  do 
so.  "No,"  he  said,  "I  could  not  find  any  one  to  fill 
Kent's  place;  and  it  is  a  demoralizing  life.  I  do 
not  know  if  even  he  could  stand  the  restraints  of 
civilization  again." 

Several  months  passed  after  Harry's  departure, 
and  we  had  given  up  any  idea  we  might  have  had 
of  hearing  any  more  of  Kent.  Martha  mourned 
him  as  dead,  and  induced  her  preacher  to  preach  his 
funeral,  she  and  Affy  attending  as  chief  mourners. 
Affy  in  a  black  cotton  dress  of  Martha's  which 
swallowed  her  up,  and  Martha  with  her  very  black 
face  muffled  in  a  square  of  black  alpaca,  from  which, 
as  she  peered  out,  her  teeth  and  eyeballs  looked 
dazzlingly  white. 

One  freezing  night  in  December,  as  we  were  trying 
to  summon  resolution  to  leave  the  warm  chimney 


KENT A   WAR-TIME    NEGRO  83 

corner  and  go  to  bed,  we  were  startled  by  a  rap  at 
the  door.  Everything  was  startling  in  those  days. 
Our  father  opened  it,  and  the  light  fell  on  a  tall 
figure  clad  in  a  United  States  uniform,  surmounted 
by  Kent's  smiling  countenance. 

"Why,  where  do  you  come  from?"  we  exclaimed. 

"Well,  I  tole  Mas'  Harry  if  de  Lord  spare  my  life 
I'd  come  home,  an'  here  I  is,  sir,  and  Missus,  an' 
mighty  proud,"  he  added,  as  my  mother  extended 
her  hand  to  him,  and  said : 

"You  are  a  faithful  fellow.  Your  mother  knew 
you  better  than  I  did." 

We  soon  dismissed  our  returned  wanderer  to  his 
rest.  Martha's  and  Affy's  delight  may  be  imagined, 
and  the  speed  with  which  they  doffed  their  mourning 
was  marvelous.  The  next  morning  we  were  anxious 
to  have  Kent's  adventures,  which  he  was  pleased  to 
narrate.  His  comfortable  attire  looked  very  spick 
and  span  beside  the  faded  garments  of  those  around, 
and  his  excellent  shoes  were  a  source  of  undisguised 
envy  to  his  fellow-servants. 

■  "Well,  Miss  Sallie,"  he  said,  when  I  remarked  on 
his  appearance,  "I  thought  I'd  better  get  myself  the 
best  I  could  while  I  was  w'ere  dey  was  plenty,  as  I 
could  give  ole  Maussa  one  nigger  less  to  clothe.  You 
see,  ma'am,  w'en  Mas' Harry  an'  our  people  lef,'  I  felt 
pretty  bad.  That  night,  sure  'nuf,  as  Mas'  Harry  tole 
me,  the  Yankees  came  booming  into  town,  an'  it 
wasn't  long  befo'  all  our  mens,  who  was  in  the  hospit- 
able, was  took  prisoners ;  but  they  seemed  very  kind  to 


84  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

them.  Wile  they  was  sick  they  give  them  everything. 
It  was  a  cur'ous  t'ing,  w'en  General  Foster  come 
through  w'ere  I  was,  he  noticed  me,  and  asked  me 
w'at  I  was  doin'  there,  an'  I  tole  him  how  I  had  been 
wid  my  young  Maussa,  an'  w'en  I  tole  him  w'ere  I 
come  from  an'  Mas'  Harry's  name,  'Oh,'  say  he,  'I 
know  his  father  well.  I  was  stationed  at  Fort 
Moultrie  befo'  de  war,  an'  I  have  eaten  many  a  good 
dinner  at  the  old  Colonel's.'  I  tole  him,  'Yes,  sir, 
Maussa  had  the  bes'  of  everything,  an'  my  ma  was 
a  splendid  cook.'  So  then  he  say:  'If  you  come 
from  them  you  knows  your  business,  an'  w'en  you 
are  well,  I  will  take  you  into  my  service.  You  is 
free  now,  you  know.'  So  they  kep'  me  in  the 
hospitable,  an'  give  me  nice  things  to  make  me  well, 
an'  w'en  the  hospitable  discharged  me,  de  General 
took  me  an'  was  rale  kind.  I  had  g"ood  greenback 
wages  and  plenty  of  everything,  an'  not  much  to  do, 
an'  rale  coffee,  as  much  as  I  wanted,  too ;  but  some- 
how I  couldn't  diskiver  to  be  settled.  I  had  been  in 
de  Soudern  army  so  long,  w'en  they  talked  of  beatin' 
it,  it  made  me  oneasy,  an'  w'en  I  studied  on  Mas' 
Harry  back  in  de  army  wid  nobody — for  I  know  he 
wouldn't  take  nobody  in  my  place — an'  wid  not 
'nuf  of  even  corn  bread  an'  bacon,  widout  me  to 
perwide,"  he  added,  with  a  grin,  "I  jest  kep'  studyin', 
but  I  never  said  nuttin',  an'  every  day  dey  tole  me 
how  lucky  I  was  to  be  free.  I  jes'  made  up  my 
mind,  an'  I  got  the  General  to  let  me  draw  all  de  clo's 
I  could,  an'  a  overcoat  an'  shoes  an'  blankets  on  my 


KENT A    WAR-TIME    NEGRO  85 

wages,  an'  den  I  ask  him  for  a  month's  wages  in 
advance,  an'  he  seem  a  little  surprised,  but  he  was 
very  kind,  an'  he  give  it  to  me ;  so  w'en  I  got  every- 
thing I  could,  one  night  I  waited  on  the  General  fust 
rate,  w'en  he  was  goin'  to  bed,  an'  fixed  everything 
very  nice,  an'  he  said  I  was  a  rale  good  servant  an'  a 
treasure  of  a  boy;  but  I  jest  took  my  things  an' 
watched  my  chance,  an'  jest  slipped  off  in  the  dark, 
an'  dodged  about  until  I  got  out  of  their  lines  an' 
into  our'n.  I  had  to  walk  a  hundred  miles  befo'  I 
got  to  our  regiment.  An',  Mis',  they  jest  gave  me 
three  cheers  w'en  I  tole  them  how  I  come  back;  an' 
I  took  de  liberty  to  bring  a  bottle  of  whiskey,  an'  I 
treated  Mas'  Harry's  ole  mess.  Dey  tole  me  he  had 
jine  another  regiment.  I  had  to  walk  a  good  piece 
more  to  de  cyars ;  but  one  of  our  officers  give  me  a 
letter  to  the  conductors  on  de  c}^ars,  so  I  jest  come 
through  without  payin'  a  cent.  An'  mighty  glad  I  is 
to  git  home,"  he  added,  drawing  a  long  sigh  of 
relief. 

"But  did  you  not  feel  bad  at  robbing  the  kind  offi- 
cer who  employed  you  ?"  I  asked. 

"Well,  Missy,"  he  answered,  "seems  like  Mas' 
Harry  has  the  bes'  right  to  me,  an'  he  was  robbin' 
Mas'  Harry  ob  me."  And,  turning  to  our  mother, 
he  said  :  "Please,  ma'am,  I  would  like  a  week  at  home 
to  marry  Affy,  an'  den  can't  I  find  Mas'  Harry?" 

It  is  needless  to  add  that  Kent's  wedding  was  as 
festive  as  it  could  be  made.  It  was  a  holiday  on  the 
plantation,  and  dancing  was  kept  up  to  the  sound  of 


86  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

the  rhythmic  stick  beating,  from  morning  until 
night.  The  bride  was  proud,  happy  and  dusky  in 
white  muslin ;  the  groom  a  marvel  in  his  attire,  and 
with  all  the  airs  of  a  traveled  man. 

After  the  surrender  Kent  followed  his  young 
master  home,  and  he  and  Affy  settled  on  a  pretty 
part  of  the  plantation,  declaring  that  they  would  live 
"faithful  togedder"  for  the  remainder  of  their  lives. 


ROSE  BLANKETS 

In  the  busy  rush  of  to-day  it  is  sometimes  a  relax- 
ation to  pause  for  a  moment  and  let  memory  carry 
us  back,  far  back,  to  the  peaceful,  uneventful  days 
before  the  Civil  War.  Life  seemed  to  go  slower  then. 
We  had  no  cables  to  tell  us,  and  often  harrow  us, 
each  morning  with  the  events  all  over  the  world  of 
the  preceding  day.  And  (inestimable  boon) 
our  only  ideas  of  war  were  time-mellowed 
Revolutionary  anecdotes.  There  was  in  these 
days  no  more  beautiful  place  in  all  the  luxuri- 
ant low  country  contiguous  to  Charleston  than 
Hickory  Hill.  The  plantation  consisted  of  rice  fields 
which  bordered  Goose  Creek  on  both  sides.  The 
massive  brick  dwelling,  built  in  Colonial  days  by  the 
pioneer  of  the  family  which  still  dwelt  there,  stood 
beyond  the  rice  fields  in  view  of  the  creek ;  venerable 
moss-crowned  live-oaks  stood  sentinels  around.  The 
approach  was  through  an  avenue  of  similar  trees, 
whose  branches  formed  a  beautiful  arch  over  the 
luxuriant  sward  beneath.  These  trees  were  the 
admiration  and  pride  of  the  countryside. 


88  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

Years  had  only  added  beauty  to  the  rugged  old 
house,  for  ivy  and  climbing  rose  vines  had  dressed 
its  walls  and  framed  many  of  its  windows.  In  the 
springtime  it  was  a  veritable  bower.  At  the  time  of 
which  I  write  it  was  a  "maidens'  bower."  From  my 
earliest  recollections  three  unmarried  sisters.  Miss 
Martha,  Miss  Joanna  and  Miss  Mary,  composed  the 
family.  My  parents  lived  on  an  adjoining  planta- 
tion, and  although  our  dwelling  houses  were  some 
distance  apart,  there  was  a  short  cut  along  the  rice 
field  banks,  and  a  happy  child  was  I  when  any  pretext 
afforded  an  excuse  for  a  visit  to  the  ladies.  Their 
individuality  had  a  great  charm  even  to  my  childish 
mind.  When  I  first  remember  them  they  must  have 
all  been  past  their  sixtieth  birthdays,  and  were 
counted  ladies  of  the  old  school.  Miss  Martha  was 
the  eldest.  She  took  life  very  seriously,  was  very 
tall  and  thin,  was  the  housekeeper  and  head,  besides 
being  considered  "the  clever  woman  of  the  family." 
She  could  be  very  tragic  on  the  smallest  provocation. 
Her  drop  of  good  Scotch  blood  made  her  hold  her 
head  very  high,  and  also  made  her  a  rigid  Presby- 
terian. When  she  was  not  hemming  a  pocket  hand- 
kerchief she  usually  had  one  of  Scott's  novels  in  her 
hands.  Miss  Joanna,  the  second  sister,  who  was  as 
genial  as  her  sister  was  severe,  used  to  say  she  "did 
not  know  what  Martha  would  have  done  if  Scott 
had  never  written;  he  had  really  diversified  her  life 
by  his  novels." 


ROSE  BLANKETS  89 

Miss  Joanna  had  the  cheeriest  old  face  imaginable, 
bright  blue  eyes,  rosy  cheeks,  with  high  cheek  bones, 
her  gray  hair  waved  becomingly,  and  she  always 
wore  a  lavender  ribbon  in  her  cap.  She  was  the 
social  one  of  the  sisters ;  that  is,  she  performed  the 
social  duties.  Miss  Mary,  the  youngest,  was  at 
sixty  the  spoiled  darling,  having  been  considered 
the  best  looking,  and  delicate  in  her  youth.  All  the 
airs  of  a  beauty,  and  the  privileges  of  an  invalid  still 
clung  to  her.  Indeed,  her  very  white  skin  and  black 
eyes  were  very  impressive.  Her  sisters  always  gave 
her  the  tenderest  consideration  and  never  failed  to 
be  affected  by  her  gentle  melancholy  and  pathetic 
sighs.  They  were  all  much  given  to  charity,  but 
Miss  Mary  was  more  lavish  than  wise.  Whole 
families  of  beggars,  not  only  preyed  upon  her,  but 
tyrannized.  There  was  a  tradition  that  Miss  Mary 
had  been  rescued  in  her  youth  from  a  runaway 
carriage  by  a  lover  who  was  anxious  to  marry  her; 
she  had  inclined  to  him,  but  had  been  deterred  by 
the  fear  of  parting  from  Miss  Joanna,  who  usually 
directed  her  affairs,  and  sometimes  made  up  her 
mind  for  her. 

The  sisters  were  accounted  quite  wealthy.  They 
owned  a  handsome  residence  in  the  neighboring  city 
of  Charleston,  where  they  betook  themselves  when 
fear  of  country  fever  drove  them  from  their  beloved 
country  home.  The  yearly  exodus  was  a  great  trial 
to  Miss  Martha,  who  was  supposed  to  manage  the 
plantation.     The  neighbors  said  the  negro  foreman, 


90  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

Boston,  managed  the  place  and  the  ladies  also. 
They  would  never  employ  a  white  overseer,  as  they 
said  "a  hireling  could  not  make  allowance  for  the 
negroes  as  they  did."  Indeed,  their  negroes  were 
a  terrible  care  to  them;  they  had  large  retinues  of 
house  servants,  both  in  the  city  and  country,  both 
having  a  sinecure  during  their  absence. 

Miss  Martha  frequently  complained  that  she  was 
"hard  worked  in  finding  something  for  the  servants 
to  do."  The  young  ones  grew  up  so  rapidly,  and  to 
put  certain  families  to  field  work  was  not  to  be 
contemplated. 

That  the  ladies  did  not  suffer  more  from  their 
reckless  management  was  providential.  Tiiey  had 
the  affection  of  all  their  servants,  but  the  women 
were  lazy  and  the  men  great  inebriates.  Their  idol, 
and  coachman,  Billy,  was  a  terrible  case.  Their 
lives  were  often  in  peril  when  he  was  on  the  box. 
After  some  hair-breadth  escape  Billy  would  be 
summoned  before  the  trio  and  Miss  Martha  would 
say  tragically,  "Billy,  you  will  be  the  death  of  us." 
"Fore  de  Laud,  Missis,  I  wouldn't  hurt  a  hair  of  yore 
heads,"  would  be  his  rejoinder.  That  he  did  not 
was  not  his  fault,  but  his  good  fortune,  for  on  one 
occasion,  having  been  sent  to  meet  Miss  Martha  and 
Miss  Mary  at  one  of  the  wharves,  he  was  so  far  gone 
that  he  drove  carriage  and  pair  over  them,  knocking 
them  down  as  they  approached  to  get  into  the 
carriage.  Miraculously  they  escaped  with  only 
bruises.     Their    black    silk    dresses    were    kept    as 


ROSE  BLANKETS  91 

curiosities,  as  the  iron  shod  hoofs  of  the  horses  had 
left  their  impress  in  several  places.  On  another 
occasion,  having  met  them  at  the  theater  with  the 
carriage,  he  drove  them  several  miles  up  the  road 
toward  their  country  home  at  u  o'clock  at  night 
before  they  could  induce  him  to  turn.  These 
episodes,  combined  with  the  very  apparent  fact  that 
their  friends  had  ceased  to  borrow  their  carriage, 
which  they  enjoyed  lending  as  much  as  using,  sealed 
Billy's  fate.  To  soften  his  downfall,  they  told  him 
he  could  give  Cuffie,  his  successor  on  the  box,  some 
"hints  on  driving,"  and  they  would  be  glad  to  fill  his 
molasses  jug  when  it  was  empty,  and  if  he  must 
drink,  to  take  molasses  and  water.  He  could  employ 
himself  by  sweeping  the  yard.  Billy  never  said 
what  he  drank,  but  died  shortly  after  of  delirium 
tremens. 

Joe  and  Romeo,  the  butler  and  his  assistant,  were 
quite  as  harassing.  Romeo's  besetting  sin  was 
indolence.  He  had  been  known  to  shed  tears  at  the 
prospect  of  one  of  the  little  tea  parties  in  which  the 
old  ladies  delighted.  On  these  occasions  their  guests 
were  their  contemporaries,  "the  girls,"  df  whom 
there  were  a  great  many  in  maiden  state  in  the  quiet 
old  city.  The  handsome  rooms  were  always  lit  by 
candles  in  tall  silver  candlesticks.  Miss  Martha 
would  never  consent  to  the  introduction  of  gas, 
which  the  more  progressive  Miss  Joanna  advocated. 


92  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

"No,"  decided  Miss  Martha,  "candles  are  much 
more  lady-like."  What  would  she  have  thought  of 
electric  lights  ? 

On  these  occasions  Joe  handed  a  waiter  with  tea, 
Romeo  followed  with  delicate  cakes,  and  then  bread 
and  butter,  while  a  boy  followed  in  the  rear  with  a 
tray  "to  catch  the  cups"  as  they  were  emptied.  Ice 
cream  followed  at  "last  bell  ring,"  ten  in  summer 
and  nine  in  winter,  when  the  party  broke  up. 
Any  more  substantial  refreshment  would  have  been 
deemed  "very  unrefined"  by  the  whole  assembly. 

There  was  a  rumor  that  on  one  of  these  occasions 
both  Joe  and  Romeo  had  been  very  unsteady  as  they 
handed  their  waiters.  Dire  was  their  mistresses' 
mortification.  Miss  Martha  always  seemed  to  feel 
responsible  when  her  servants  misbehaved.  She 
would  exclaim,  "A  single  woman  has  great  need  of 
strength  of  mind."  Miss  Mary's  unfailing  rejoinder 
would  be,  "Thank  God,  you  have  it,  sister."  One 
evening  Joe  brought  especial  obloquy  upon  himself. 
He  must  have  shared  Billy's  molasses  jug,  for  he 
had  not  drawn  the  tea  as  directed. 

Miss  Martha,  in  consideration  for  some  of  "the 
girls"  who  were  growing  feeble,  always  accompanied 
Joe  on  his  rounds.  As  he  paused  before  a  guest  she 
would  hold  a  lump  suspended  in  the  sugar  tongs  as 
she  would  say,  "Green  tea  and  black;  dear,  which 
will  you  have?"  On  this  occasion  Joe  took  advan- 
tage of  her  deafness  to  mumble,  "Both  made  in  de 


ROSE  BLANKETS  93 

same  pot."  The  guests  were  quite  diverted,  but  did 
not  enlighten  Miss  Martha  as  to  Joe's  confession, 
and  their  progress  continued  until  they  reached  Miss 
Mary.  When  she  overheard  Joe's  assertion,  she 
looked  at  him  with  mild  indignation,  but  only  said, 
"Sister,  you  had  better  sit  down.  I  will  explain 
later  my  asking  you  to  do  so."  Miss  Mary's  sug- 
gestion of  any  course  of  action  to  Miss  Martha 
seemed  to  call  for  explanation. 

The  next  morning,  when  she  told  of  the  duet  she 
had  interrupted,  Joe  was  summoned.  Miss  Martha 
told  him  he  had  brought  disgrace  upon  them  and 
would  further  bring  their  gray  hairs  in  sorrow  to 
the  grave.  He  of  course  expressed  great  penitence, 
and  was  vociferous  in  promises  of  amendment.  His 
mistresses  tried  to  feel  faith.  Miss  Mary,  however, 
had  to  take  a  great  deal  of  orange-leaf  tea  before  her 
nerves  recovered  the  shock.  Kindly  Miss  Joanna 
said  privately,  she  had  known  nothing  of  what  was 
occurring,  but  she  was  glad  the  girls  had  something 
to  amuse  them;  she  had  thought  them  very  merry, 
and  though  Joe  had  failed  in  his  demeanor  he  had 
shown  a  wonderful  regard  for  truth.  Had  the 
ladies  and  many  of  their  generation  lived  to  see 
emancipation  they  would  have  parted  with  many 
"an  old  man  of  the  sea." 

One  April  morning  I  set  out  *n  take  a  bunch  of 
May  roses  over  the  rice  field  banks  to  Hickory  Hill. 
These  roses  were  especial  favorites  with  the  sisters, 
and  I  was  pleased  to  have  the  earliest  blossoms  to 


94  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

carry.  Miss  Joanna  kept  a  rose  jar.  Miss  Martha 
was  famous  for  the  rose  water  she  distilled.  I  only 
expected  to  see  Miss  Martha,  for  I  knew  Miss  Mary 
had  been  drooping,  and  Miss  Joanna  had  taken  her 
to  visit  a  friend,  who,  although  long  past  her  youth, 
had  recently  married  a  Northern  gentleman,  with 
whom  she  lived  on  her  beautiful  plantation  near  the 
city. 

Miss  Joanna  and  her  sister  had  left  only  the  day 
before,  so  I  was  surprised  to  see  the  carriage  at  the 
door  and  Cilia,  the  maid,  removing  their  shawls  and 
trappings.  "Why,  Cilia!"  I  exclaimed,  "are  the 
ladies  back  already?"  "Yes,  missy,"  she  replied, 
grinning  and  dropping  a  curtsy,  "Miss  Joanna  an' 
Miss  May,  an'  Miss  Burton  had  a  kine  uv  upsettiir, 
an'  so  we  come  home."  Wondering  what  was  amiss, 
I  hastened  in.  I  paused  as  I  entered  the  sitting- 
room,  for  I  saw  the  ladies  were  much  perturbed 
(small  excitements  were  very  usual  with  them,  but 
their  demeanor  betokened  something  serious)  ;  Miss 
Martha  sat  very  erect,  with  her  most  judicial  aspect, 
the  needle  with  which  she  was  sewing  suspended. 
"Come  in,  child,"  she  said  as  she  saw  me;  "if  my 
sisters  make  fools  of  themselves  you  may  as  well 
know  it  as  the  rest  of  the  world." 

Miss  Mary  and  Miss  Joanna  sar  with  their  bonnets 
on.  Miss  Mary  with  the  air  of  a  culprit.  Miss 
Joanna  decidedly  rufrled,  and  her  cheeks  redder  than 
usual.  She  said:  "Don't  jump  too  quickly  to  con- 
clusions, sister;  it  does  seem  queer  for  us  to  return 


ROSE  BLANKETS  95 

so  hastily,  but  when  I  tell  you  about  it  quietly,  you 
will,  I  am  sure,  see  that  we  were  not  entirely  to 
blame.  You  know  Caroline's  husband  is  rather 
abrupt  in  his  manner." 

"He  has  no  Southern  suavity,"  interrupted  Miss 
Mary. 

'The  evening  we  got  there  I  was  feeling  rather 
dull,  and  he  really  made  me  nervous  by  shouting  in 
my  ear  several  times,  'Cheer  up,  Miss  Mary.'  I 
jumped  every  time." 

"He  no  doubt  meant  it  kindly,"  said  Miss  Joanna, 
"but  I  dare  say  it  prepared  you  for  what  followed." 
"We  had  a  pleasant  evening  on  the  whole,  although 
I  thought  Mr.  Burton  did  express  his  Northern  views 
of  slavery  a  little  more  than  was  called  for,  especially 
as  he  did  not  seem  to  object  to  Caroline's  owning  a 
great  many.  She  was  in  high  feather  and  seemed 
delighted  to  see  us.  At  bed-time  she  accompanied 
us  to  our  room,  where  there  was  a  bright  fire,  and 
Cilia  awaiting  us.  After  Caroline  left  us  Cilia 
begged  leave  to  go  to  a  dance  at  the  negro  quarter; 
she  said  it  was  in  her  honor,  and  she  seemed  in  haste 
to  be  gone.  So  I  promised  to  do  what  Mary  would 
need  and  sent  her  off.  After  I  was  undressed  I  was 
standing  by  the  fire  brushing  my  hair.  I  saw  Mary 
fumbling  about  the  bed  and  asked  her  if  she  was 
ready  for  me  to  tuck  her  in.  Instead  of  answering, 
she  came,  as  I  thought,  mysteriously  up  to  me  and 
whispered,  'Negro.' 


96  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

"Of  course  I  thought  there  was  a  man  under  the 
bed.  I  remembered  our  watches,  Mary's  diamond 
pin,  and  how  far  we  were  from  Caroline  and  Mr. 
Burton;  for  we  were  in  the  company  wing.  I 
screamed  for  help  as  loud  as  I  could ;  the  more  noise 
I  made  the  more  distressed  Mary  seemed.  Caroline 
and  Mr.  Burton  came  running,  in  most  indescribable 
costumes,"  the  old  lady  continued,  with  a  look  of 
amused  restrospection.  "There  stood  Mary  in  her 
bed-gown  and  curl-papers ;  I  in  my  wrapper,  and 
Mary  staring  at  me  as  if  she  thought  me  crazy. 

"  'What  is  the  matter?'  they  both  exclaimed. 

"  'Oh/  I  said,  'Mary  says  there  is  a  negro  under 
the  bed.' 

"We'll  soon  have  the  rascal  out.''  said  Mr.  Burton, 
poking  under  the  bed  with  a  big  stick. 

"  'Oh,'  said  Mary.  T  never  said  anything  of  the 
kind,  Joanna.  I  meant/  she  said,  turning  as  red  as 
a  beet,  'that  there  were  not  rose  blankets  on  the  bed, 
but  blankets  without  the  rose  embroidered  on  them, 
and  I  call  those  negro  blankets.  Joanna  made  such 
a  noise  I  could  not  explain  what  I  meant,'  and  she 
burst  into  tears.  Mr.  Burton  bounced  out  of  the 
room,  muttering  something.  Caroline  was  very 
angry.  She  said  that  if  she  had  had  any  idea  that 
we  girls  could  behave  in  such  a  way  she  would  never 
have  invited  us  to  visit  her.  She  had  wished  to  give 
her  husband  an  agreeable  impression  of  Southern 
ladies,  but  she  did  not  like  to  think  what  his  impres- 
sion must  be;  and  as  to  rose  blankets,  we  never  could 


ROSE  BLANKETS  97 

understand  when  things  were  out  of  date.  Those 
were  beautiful  new  blankets,  bought  in  New  York 
when  refurnishing  their  guest-room.  And  in  fact 
she  was  so  angry,"  concluded  Miss  Joanna,  "that  I 
do  not  like  to  remember  all  she  said." 

"But  I  must  tell  you,  sister,"  put  in  Miss  Mary, 
"she  said  she  knew  I  was  always  a  fool,  but  she  had 
thought  Joanna  had  a  little  sense,  and  I  agree  with 
her,  Joanna,  that  you  ought  not  to  have  made  such  a 
noise.  I  never  felt  worse  in  my  life  than  when  you 
began  to  scream.  And  I  never  slept  a  wink  all 
night,  as  you  know.  Now,  Sister  Martha,  which  do 
you  think  the  most  to  blame  ?" 

"I  cannot  say,"  said  Miss  Martha,  "but  I  know  I 
will  never  go  to  visit  any  friend  with  either  of  you. 
I  don't  wonder  Caroline  was  angry,  and  what  an 
impression  you  have  made  on  her  husband." 

"Oh,"  said  Miss  Joanna,"we  know  he  was  furious. 
We  had  a  most  unpleasant  time  at  breakfast  the  next 
morning.  I  tried  to  make  a  joke  of  the  whole 
episode,  but  failed.  They  were  too  angry;  so  as 
Mary  was  feeling  so  shaken,  and  had  taken  all  her 
orange-leaf  water  with  no  benefit  to  her  nerves,  I 
thought  we  had  better  come  home;  and  I  am 
delighted  to  be  here;  and  too  thankful  neither  of  you 
are  married,"  she  continued,  with  a  return  of  her 
genial  smile.  "For  I  nearly  exhausted  myself  trying 
to  mollify  Mr.  Burton." 


98  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

"Yes,"  said  Miss  Mary,  "with  no  success.  I  do 
not  envy  Caroline  her  new  acquisition,  and  I  am  sure 
rose  blankets  are  the  best." 

Such  were  the  agitations  and  events  of  these 
tranquil  lives.  Their  days  glided  by  in  peace  and 
kindly  ministrations.  They  were  fortunate  in 
following  each  other  in  quick  succession  to  the  old 
Scotch  churchyard  where  their  fathers  slept  in  the 
"City  by  the  Sea." 


SOME  LETTERS  WRITTEN  DURING  THE 
LAST  MONTHS  OF  THE  WAR 

Otranto,  November  20,  1864. 

I  have  not  written  to  you  for  some  time,  as  we 
have  been  moving  about  a  good  deal,  and  have 
had  some  interesting  and  funny  experiences.  Last 
summer  we  were  tired  of  refugeeing,  and  decided  ro 
go  back  to  Charleston,  and  lived  in  a  house  on  Mary 
street,  as  we  thought  well  out  of  shell  range;  our 
own  residence  on  South  Bay  being  in  the  grass,  and 
glass-strewed  district.  Our  family  consists  only  of 
my  mother,  sister  and  myself,  our  mankind  being  in 
service,  as  you  know,  except  father,  who  is  in  the 
home  guard.  My  mother  spent  most  of  her  time" 
visiting  the  hospitals  and  devising  comforts  for  the 
soldiers;  my  sister  and  I  knit  socks,  and  rejoiced 
when  some  of  our  soldier  relatives  could  snatch  a 
breathing-space  from  arduous  duties  at  Sumter  or  on 
the  islands  to  visit  us  and  partake  of  the  best  we 
could  bestow  on  them. 


100  LIFE  IN  THE   CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

The  sound  of  the  shells  with  their  sharp,  rasping, 
hissing  sound  before  they  exploded  was  familiar,  the 
interest  being  to  venture  into  range  sometimes  and 
discover  the  last  place  hit.  There  was  a  method  in 
Gilmore's  management  of  his  ''Swamp  Angel."  We 
always  noticed  the  shells  came  quicker  at  church  time 
on  Sunday,  and  at  ten  to  eleven  at  night.  To  add 
to  our  troubles,  yellow  fever  broke  out  this  year,  the 
only  time  during  the  war.  It  was  not  a  violent 
epidemic,  but  there  were  some  deaths.  We  thought 
we  were  immune,  but  in  September  my  sister  took  it. 

One  evening  early  in  September  my  sister  was 
better  and  a  friend  of  mine  (whose  house  we  faced 
in  their  rear)  begged  me  to  come  to  tea.  I  went 
over  at  dusk,  and  with  her  and  another  guest  were 
enjoying  a  cup  of  real  tea  and  a  bit  of  toast — 
quite  a  feast,  when  there  was  a  tremendous 
explosion  apparently  just  at  hand.  We  all  sat  quiet, 
tea  cups  in  hand.  The  negro  boy  rushed  in.  rolling 
his  eyes,  with  the  announcement  that  the  opposite 
house  in  Aiken's  row  was  struck,  and  they  were 
moving  out.  The  lady  and  her  daughter  were  both 
ill  with  fever,  and  both  died  shortly  in  consequence 
of  the  fright  and  removal. 

In  quick  succession  several  houses  in  Aiken's  row- 
were  struck.  As  I  look  back  now  it  seems  strange 
to  me  that  we  all  sat  quietly  in  the  drawing-room 
waiting  our  turn  to  be  hit.  The  man  servant 
returning  at  intervals  to  report  that  another  of  the 
houses  was  hit.     I  welcomed  my  father,  when  at 


SOME    WAR-TIME   LETTERS  101 

nine,  he  came  for  me.  Nothing  ever  overcame  his 
sense  of  humor.  He  brought  a  large  cotton  umbrella, 
which,  he  said,  he  had  brought  to  please  my  mother, 
as  a  shell  might  spare  its  hideousness.  When  I  got 
home  I  found  my  mother  and  sister  anxiously  await- 
ing me.  I  had  a  little  cot  in  a  corner  of  my  sister's 
room,  and  my  mother,  being  anxious,  lay  on  the  bed 
by  her.  I  went  to  bed  and  was  soon  asleep,  the 
shelling  apparently  having  ceased,  but  they  had  only 
paused  to  try  a  new  gun.  The  first  shells  always 
going  farthest,  I  was  awakened  by  the  horrible 
familiar  hiss  and  plaster  and  glass  falling  over  me. 
The  shell  cut  the  corner  of  the  house  and  passed  so 
near  me  that  the  glasses  of  the  window  near  by  my 
bed  were  broken,  and  the  plastering  above  fell  on 
me.  The  monster  buried  itself  in  our  yard,  making 
a  horrible  deep  pit,  but  not  exploding.  A  few  more 
inches  and  I  would  have  been  buried  with  it.  It 
shows  how  accustomed  we  were  to  shocks  that  I 
do  not  remember  feeling  any  terror,  but  remarked 
quietly  in  the  dark  to  my  mother,  "I  think  we  are 
hit."  To  my  astonishment  she  broke  forth  in 
ejaculations  of  thanksgiving.  The  noise  and  crash 
had  been  so  great  she  thought  the  side  of  the  room 
with  me  in  it  had  been  taken  away.  That  was  the 
longest  range  shell  that  fell  in  Charleston.  In  a  few 
days  we  went  to  the  up-country  to  be  with  friends, 
and  then  last  week  came  down  to  Otranto,  where  we 
are  now. 


102  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

Otranto,  January  15,  1865. 

I  have  not  written  for  some  time,  but  we  all  are 
really  so  troubled  and  depressed  that,  as  mother  says, 
we  have  to  be  physically  active  to  keep  from  thinking, 
so  little  writing  have  I  done  this  winter.  I  suppose 
you  know  father  has  gone  with  his  company  of 
reserves  to  Summerville.  They  are  all  men  of  over 
sixty,  but  we  hear  that  Summerville  is  pleased  to 
have  them.  Aunts  Anna  and  May  became  so  tired 
of  refugee  life  in  Camden  that  they  decided  to  join 
mother,  Annie,  and  me  on  the  plantation.  With 
father  and  our  brother  away  we  are  very  lonely,  but 
Aunt  Anna's  eighty  odd  years  make  us  anxious  to 
make  her  comfortable.  She  is  better  off  with  us, 
for  the  terrible  scarcity  of  provisions  has  not  touched 
us  here.  We  have  enough  of  home  provisions,  but 
mother  gives  every  morsel  she  can  spare  to  the 
hospitals  and  soldiers'  wayside  homes  in  Charleston. 
The  aunts  say  that  despite  the  enormous  board  they 
had  to  pay  in  Camden  they  had  only  fresh  pork  and 
biscuits,  not  even  milk,  as  so  many  of  the  cattle  have 
been  impressed  for  the  army. 

Christmas  was  certainly  a  very  gloomy  day.  The 
news  that  Sherman  was  in  Savannah  struck  us  cold. 
Our  three  cousins  got  leave  of  absence  and  came  up 
for  a  few  hours.  Mother  had  a  turkey  and  we  did 
our  best,  but  I  think  they  feel  very  grave  over  the 
state  of  things.  We  are  in  terror  lest  Charleston 
will  have  to  be  abandoned.  Hal  begged  mother  to 
return  to  the  up-country,  but  she  says  she  went  away 


SOME    WAR-TIME   LETTERS  103 

three  times  and  will  not  leave  again.  She  manages 
the  plantation,  you  know.  The  negroes  are  very 
good,  but  there  is  a  spirit  of  restlessness  perceptible. 
Hal  was  shocked  when  he  heard  that  we  never  locked 
up  the  house  at  night. 

All  the  white  men  are  in  the  army  and  some 
women  are  nervous,  but  we  do  not  feel  so.  This 
intensely  cold  winter  makes  us  wretched  about  our 
poor  bare-footed  soldiers.  Mother  can  knit  a  pair 
of  socks  a  day.  Maum  Martha  spins  the  wool.  I 
can  do  only  one  sock  a  day.  We  are  fortunate  to 
have  so  much  lightwood.  It  is  the  only  source  of 
light  we  have,  but  we  can  manage  our  knitting  and 
Annie  even  reads  sometimes,  but  the  paper  is  so  bad 
that  it  is  hard  to  read  the  printing  on  it. 

Otranto,  February  i,  1865. 

I  fear  you  are  really  having  a  dreadful  time.  The 
high  price  of  provisions  is  certainly  dreadful  on 
people  with  fixed  incomes. 

We  had  quite  an  adventure  last  Wednesday. 
Father  luckily  came  over  from  Summerville  to 
dinner.  It  was  a  bitterly  cold  day.  We  were  just 
sitting  down  to  the  luxury  of  calf's  head  soup,  for 
father  wished  some  veal  to  carry  back  to  camp,  when 
Quash  came  in  with  a  rattled  and  rather  bothered 
air,  and  said  there  was  a  Yankee  soldier  outside  who 
wanted  to  give  himself  up.  We  all  were  thunder- 
struck, and  followed  father,  who  gave  vent  to  great 
displeasure. 


104  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

At  the  door  stood  a  miserable  looking-  creature, 
shivering  in  a  tattered  blue  uniform.  He  was  tall, 
thin,  and  white  as  a  ghost,  and  his  feet  looked 
particularly  white.  I  never  saw  a  more  abject 
object.  Father  tried  to  be  very  severe,  but  you 
know  how  kind-hearted  he  is,  and  while  he  was 
scolding  the  man  I  overheard  Quash  say  aside  to 
him,  "Nebber  min'  what  he  say,  Maussa  doan'  mean 
it.    He  is  one  ob  de  kindest  mens  in  de  vvurl." 

It  seems  that  the  man  was  a  prisoner  who  had 
escaped  from  the  cars  on  his  way  to  prison  some 
three  months  ago  and  was  trying  to  make  his  way 
to  the  coast,  hoping  to  get  through  our  lines.  He 
had  been  living  among  the  negroes,  sleeping  in  their 
houses  by  day  and  traveling  by  night ;  but  the 
wretched  existence  had  worn  him  out  and  he  came 
to  give  himself  up.  He  was  an  Englishman  who 
was  impressed  on  his  arrival  in  New  York  and  he 
begged  father  to  ask  the  authorities  to  let  him  take 
the  oath  of  allegiance  and  fight  for  us;  but  father 
said  there  had  been  enough  of  that  and  such  galvan- 
ized Yankees  had  done  more  harm  than  good. 

This  poor  wretch  is  the  first  enemy  we  have 
seen,  and  we  could  not  help  feeling  sorry  for  him, 
although,  as  father  says,  no  doubt  he  has  been 
demoralizing  the  negroes.  He  gave  him  a  good 
dinner  and  turned  him  over  to  Daddy  Paul  to  take 
care  of  until  the  next  day,  when  father  took  him  to 
Charleston  and  delivered  him  to  the  authorities. 
Mother  found  him  an  old  jacket  and  pair  of  shoes 


SOME    WAR-TIME   LETTERS  105 

and  socks,  which  she  gave  him.  Surely  she  had 
never  expected  to  give  a  pair  of  her  socks  to  one  of 
the  enemy. 

Maum  Martha  thinks  our  kindness  misplaced  and 
told  us  he  talked  very  different  to  them  from  the 
way  he  talked  to  us,  but  she  told  us  this  only 
after  he  had  left,  although  it  would  have  made  no 
difference.     We  may  have  "heaped  coals  of  fire,"  etc. 

Otranto,  February  15,  1865. 

I  have  not  heard  from  you  for  some  time,  but  I 
know  in  these  dark  days  you  think  of  us.  There  is 
no  doubt  we  live  in  dreadful  times.  We  may  soon 
be  in  the  enemy's  country,  or  rather  our  troops  may 
have  to  retire  from  the  coast. 

Yesterday  Annie  and  I  determined  to  drive  over 
to  Summerville  and  dine  with  aunt,  as  she  and 
Cousin  Sue  have  begged  us  to  do  so.  Mother  did 
not  want  us  to  go.  She  feels  the  perilous  times  and 
all  the  sorrows  she  has  had  make  her  very  anxious. 
But  at  last  she  consented  to  our  going,  much  to  Aunt 
May's  disappointment,  who  thinks  we  should  sit 
down  and  say,  "Good  Lord,  deliver  us,"  all  the  time. 

We  had  a  pleasant  drive  over,  as  you  know  it  is 
only  nine  miles.  Daddy  Moses  drove  us  and  mother 
insisted  that  Cully  should  go  as  an  outrider.  He 
rode  Lamb,  and  went  ahead.  It  showed  that  mother 
was  nervous,  but  Annie  and  I  were  amused,  as  we 
did  not  know  what  he  was  expected  to  do.  We 
found  aunt  and  Cousin  Sue  delighted  to  see  us  and 


106  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

we  enjoyed  our  day.  We  left  at  5  o'clock,  as  we 
could  not  get  off  earlier.  Father  dined  with  us  and 
tried  to  start  us  earlier.  Aunt  is  delighted  to  have 
him  in  Summerville  as  she  says  she  "never  felt  so 
safe,  because  she  knows  he  will  fight." 

Our  drive  home  was  gloomy  and  we  did  not 
reach  there  until  7  o'clock.  As  we  drew  near  we 
met  several  of  the  negroes  on  farm  horses  looking 
for  us,  and  at  the  avenue  gate  our  maid  Fanny  peer- 
ing for  us  in  the  dark.  Mother  and  the  aunts  were 
wretched  about  us,  particularly  as  Uncle  Pete  had 
come  up  from  the  city  full  of  bad  news.  Charleston 
is  to  be  evacuated,  as  Sherman's  movements  have 
made  that  necessary.  He  was  horrified  when  he 
heard  that  we  had  taken  so  long  a  drive,  as  he  says 
the  woods  are  full  of  stragglers  and  escaped  galvan- 
ized Yankees.  I  do  not  know  what  is  before  us,  or 
when  you  will  hear  from  us  again. 

Otranto,  February  20,  1865. 
Charleston  is  being"  evacuated  and  our  army  is 
passing  all  the  time,  and  we  reconcile  ourselves  to 
being  left  in  the  enemy's  lines  by  the  hope  that  our 
army,  strengthened  by  the  coast  troops,  may  defeat 
Sherman.  This  letter  will  go  by  the  last  of  our 
troops.  The  army  has  been  passing  for  five  days 
and  many  of  the  men  come  up  to  the  house,  where 
we  give  them  everything  we  can  for  them  to  eat. 
They  are  full  of  courage  and  their  appearance  gives 
us  renewed  hope.     They  hate  to  leave  us  behind. 


SOME    WAR-TIME    LETTERS  107 

Henry  spent  last  night  here.  He  got  leave  of 
absence  with  difficulty,  but  will  rejoin  his  regiment 
at  Strawberry  Ferry.  He  begged  mother  to  retire 
into  the  interior;  but  we  mean  to  stay.  He  left  us 
this  morning.  The  captain  in  command  of  the  rear- 
guard at  Goose  Creek  Bridge  has  just  come  to  bid 
us  good-by,  and  he  took  two  letters,  which  he 
promised  to  carry  into  our  lines — one  to  papa  and 
the  other  to  aunt,  which  we  knew  would  be  the  last 
tidings  they  would  get  from  us. 

This  may,  or  may  not  reach  you,  but  it  is  a  com- 
fort to  write.  The  worst  has  come,  or  I  hope  it  has. 
After  my  last  letter  we  awaited  the  approach  of  the 
enemy  with  indescribable  feelings.  We  tried  not  to 
think,  and  I  must  say  I  was  afraid  of  being  fright- 
ened out  of  my  wits  and  was  too  thankful  when  the 
Yankees  came.  I  was  too  angry  to  be  scarced.  We 
tried  to  keep  up  each  other's  spirits  and  were  very 
busy  hiding  things.  We  took  only  Paul,  Jack  and 
Martha  into  our  confidence  and  they  helped  us 
faithfully. 

Tuesday  passed  in  quiet.  Mother,  Annie  and  I 
took  our  usual  walk  in  the  afternoon  and  met  one  of 
the  negroes,  who  told  us  that  our  men  had  not  burned 
the  bridge,  and  we  determined  that  if  this  was  the 
fact,  we  would  do  it  ourselves ;  but  as  we  approached 
we  were  glad  to  see  it  blazing  in  the  distance.  We 
felt  then  that  we  were  really  cut  off  from  our  own 


108  LIFE  IN   THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

people,  but  at  the  same  time  had  satisfaction  in 
knowing  that  if  our  army  was  pursued  the  enemy 
would  here  meet  an  obstacle. 

At  5  o'clock  Wednesday  afternoon  as  we  were 
again  getting  ready  for  a  walk,  a  man  was  seen 
riding  rapidly  up  the  avenue.  I  called  out,  "The 
Yankees  are  here.  I  know  them  by  their  blue  legs !" 
and  you  may  be  sure  the  family  assembled  quickly. 
In  the  mean  while  the  man  dashed  past  the  house  and 
rode  quickly  around  it,  evidently  expecting  some  one 
to  run  out ;  finding  no  one,  he  returned  to  the  front 
of  the  house,  where  we  five  ladies  stood  together  on 
the  piazza.  By  this  time  we  saw  many  others 
coming  up  the  avenue. 

"Where  is  the  man  of  the  house?"  demanded  the 
man  in  an  insolent  tone. 

Mamma  replied,  "He  is  not  at  home."  and  Aunt 
May  added,  "He  is  a  gray-haired  man." 

He  gave  a  leer  and  said,  "But  not  too  old  to  be  in 
the  Rebel  army."  This  could  not  be  denied,  so  we 
were  silent.  Then,  with  an  expression  of  triumph 
he  said,  "You  have  never  seen  black  troops,  but  you 
will  soon-  have  that  pleasure ;  they  are  advancing 
now." 

Mamma  said,  "I  suppose  they  are  not  different 
from  other  negroes ;  we  are  accustomed  to  them  and 
never  have  feared  them." 

This  calm  reply  was  evidently  a  disappointment, 
as  he  had  hoped  we  would  have  been  overcome  with 
fear. 


SOME   WAR-TIME   LETTERS  '  109 

He  turned  off  and  said,  "I  must  get  some  poultry 
for  the  General's  supper,"  and  went  to  the  fowl- 
house,  where  about  a  dozen  of  his  men  joined  him. 
In  a  few  moments  the  cart,  which  just  at  the  moment 
was  coming  up  with  a  load  of  wood,  was  seized  and 
filled  with  our  fowls,  turkeys,  ^eese,  etc.,  and  driven 
off. 

I  happened  to  turn  my  eyes  toward  the  western 
entrance  from  the  main  road  and  saw  the  negro 
soldiers  rushing  in. 

To  my  latest  day  I  will  not  forget  their  brutal 
appearance.  They  came  up  brandishing  their  guns 
with  an  air  of  wildness  hard  to  describe,  and  in  a 
short  time  were  scattered  over  the  plantation,  com- 
mitting every  conceivable  havoc.    Their  commander, 

Lieutenant  J ,   of  New  York,   rode  up  to  the 

house,  accompanied  by  several  white  officers,  and 
while  we  stood  still  and  calmly  upon  the  piazza  he 
called  out,  "Where  is  the  man  of  the  house?" 

Mother  replied  as  before,  when  he  said,  "He  is  a 
Rebel,"  and  turning  to  her  said,  "I  am  come  to 
liberate  your  people,"  to  which  she  quietly  replied, 
"I  hope  you  will  be  as  kind  to  them  as  we  have  been." 
This  visibly  angered  him  and  he  exclaimed,  "That 
is  a  strange  reply  to  make  to  a  Northern  man,  and 
an  officer  of  a  colored  regiment."  To  which  she 
replied,  "We  will  not  discuss  the  question." 

He  turned  and  said  something  to  Quash,  our 
waiting-man,  and  in  a  short  time  we  heard  him  and 
the  other  officers  upstairs  in  our  bed-rooms.  Mamma 


110  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

and  Aunt  Anna  followed  quietly  and  found  that  he 
had  summoned  our  two  maids,  Rachel  and  Fanny, 
and  was  exhorting  them  to  disclose  where  every- 
thing of  value  was  concealed,  saying,  "Don't  lie; 
that  woman  (meaning  mother)  is  very  bad,"  and  a 
great  deal  more  in  the  same  strain,  trying  to  incite 
them  against  us.  They  spoke  to  these  servants  as 
"Madam,"  and  of  mother  as  "that  woman.'' 

The  two  girls  were  very  frightened,  but  behaved 
remarkably  Avell  and  assured  them  that  no  valuables 
were  hidden,  and  only  the  ladies'  clothes  were  in  the 
rooms.  However,  they  ransacked  our  wardrobes 
and  bureau  drawers,  throwing  our  things  out  all 
over  the  floor,  and  when  they  came  downstairs  took 
all  the  cold  meats  out  of  the  larder. 

While  mother  and  Aunt  Anna  were  upstairs  help- 
lessly following  Lieutenant  J around  and  wit- 
nessing his  shameless  conduct  in  our  bed-rooms, 
Aunt  May,  Annie  and  I  remained  downstairs.  A 
quiet-looking  officer  was  standing  in  the  piazza. 

Aunt  May,  who  never  can  control  her  curiosity, 
said  to  him,  "We  heard  some  heavy  firing  in 
Charleston  this  morning.  Has  anything  occurred 
there?"  "Good  Heavens,  Madam,"  he  replied, 
"have  you  been  so  long  out  of  the  Union  that  you 
have  forgotten  Washington's  birthday?" 

At  this  moment  about  twenty  rough-looking  men 
came  charging  up  to  the  house,  evidently  intending 
to  enter.  I  confess  that,  for  the  first  time  I  was 
alarmed,    and    calling    to    the    officer    said,    "For 


SOME    WAR-TIME   LETTERS  111 

Heaven's  sake,  protect  us ;  don't  let  those  men  enter." 
He  said,  "I  will  do  what  I  can,"  and  placed  himself 
in  the  doorway. 

The  men  seeing  him  come  forward  as  our  pro- 
tector, stopped  in  the  piazza.  By  this  time  Lieu- 
tenant  J and    his    party   had    returned    from 

searching  our  bed-rooms,  and  calling  to  his  men  said, 
"Boys,  take  what  you  want."  These  acted  like  long- 
pent-up  animals  suddenly  let  loose.  All  our  stock, 
horses  and  mules  were  driven  off,  our  cattle,  sheep 
and  hogs  were  killed;  the  barns  and  smoke-house 
were  broken  open,  and  all  their  contents  scattered, 
and  all  our  vehicles  of  every  kind,  tools  and  imple- 
ments were  broken  in  pieces  and  thrown  into  the 
creek  or  burned. 

It  was  awful  to  hear  the  screams  of  the  cattle  and 
hogs  as  they  were  chased  and  bayoneted,  and  the 
scatter  and  terror  of  the  sheep  was  terrible  to  see. 
Even  my  pet  calf,  which  you  know  papa  gave  me, 
and  I  took  so  much  pleasure  in  raising  by  hand,  was 
killed ;  and  dear  old  Aaron,  our  house  cat,  was  cruelly 
run  through  with  a  bayonet,  right  before  my  eyes, 
as  he  tried  to  escape  under  the  house.  Such  brutal 
scenes  I  never  had  supposed  I  would  ever  have  to 
witness. 

While  all  this  was  going  on  mother  said  to  Lieu- 
tenant J ,  "If  you  take  from  us  all  means  of 

subsistence  we  will  starve."  He  turned,  and  with 
much  satisfaction  said,  "You  are  being  punished  for 
what  you  have  done;"  and  going  out,  mounted  his 


112  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

horse  and  rode  off  among  the  negroes,  proclaiming 
to  them  their  freedom  and  incessantly  asking  for 
"the  man  of  the  house."  They  could  only  say  that 
he  was  absent,  when  he  said,  "He  may  not  be  here, 

but  he  has  left  a rebel  of  a  woman,  who  is  as 

bad  as  a  man,  and  the  house  ought  to  be  burnt.'' 
The  negroes  were  very  much  alarmed,  and  entreated 
us  not  to  talk  to  the  soldiers  as  they  hated  us  so  and 
said  such  awful  things. 

It  was  now  quite  dark  and  the  excitement  and 
confusion  were  truly  awful.  We  all  withdrew  to 
the  parlor,  and  closing  the  door  sat  in  the  dark,  not 
knowing  what  the  next  moment  might  bring  forth ; 
but  the  faithful  Quash  brought  in  a  candle  and  placed 
it  on  the  table  with  his  accustomed  air. 

He  had  scarcely  brought  it  in  when  the  front  door 
was  opened  and  in  walked  General  Potter,  followed 
by  his  aids.  Not  one  of  them  had  the  decency  to 
make  the  least  salutation,  or  take  any  notice  of  the 
five  ladies  seated  in  the  room.  But  the  General  im- 
mediately seated  himself,   while  Lieutenant  J 

seized  our  candle,  and  opening  mother's  bed-room 
door  called  out,  "General,  this  will  be  a  comfortable 
room    for    you,"    to    which    remark    the    General 

assented.     Lieutenant  J ,  then    looking   around 

said,  "I  take  possession  of  this  room  for  General 
Potter."  After  this  the  General  made  repeated 
attempts  at  conversation  with  us,  but  as  we  had 
that  afternoon  seen  such  wanton  destruction  of  our 
property,  and  were  constrained  to  see  our  enemies 


SOME    WAR-TIME   LETTERS  113 

i 

occupying  the  rooms  in  which  it  had  been  so  often 
our  pleasure  to  entertain  our  friends,  you  may 
imagine  we  were  in  no  mood  for  conversation. 

We  all  soon  went  upstairs,  where  Quash  brought 
us  some  tea.  As  it  was  then  near  midnight  we 
decided  to  go  to  bed,  and  mother  said  she  would  go 
down  in  the  morning  and  request  that  a  written 
protection  be  furnished  us,  as  this  had  been  suggested 
by  the  quiet-looking  officer,  our  protector  of  the 
afternoon  before.  Therefore,  as  early  as  possible  she 
did  so,  but  General  Potter  received  her  very  shortly, 
and  only  replied,  "Your  husband  is  in  the  Rebel 
army."  She  replied,  "It  was  our  desire  that  he 
should  leave  us,  and  I  am  glad  he  is  not  here,  for  if 
he  had  been  I  suppose  he  would  have  been  shot." 

He  replied,  "You  talk  like  a  fool  when  you  say 
that,"  and  turned  off;  when  mother  said,  "If  that  is 
your  opinion,  I  have  the  more  need  of  protection." 

As  the  General  was  about  to  go  out  to  mount  his 

horse  at  the  door,  Lieutenant  B came  to  the 

rescue,  saying,  "General,  with  your  permission,  I  can 
write  a  paper  addressed  to  the  officers  and  men  of 
the  United  States  army,  saying  that  it  is  your 
desire  that  this  house  and  its  iady  occupants  be 
unmolested." 

The  General  only  answered,  "You  may  if  you 
wish,"  when  a  paper  to  that  effect  was  written,  and 
its  influence  was  certainly  beneficial.     We  felt  that 

we  owed  our  safety  largely  to  Lieutenant  B , 

who  conducted  himself  in  every  way  as  a  gentleman, 


114  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

and  on  leaving  thanked  mother  courteously  for  his 
night's  accommodation  and  politely  bowed  to  all  of 
us. 

It  was  near  midday  before  all  of  the  officers  had 
left  the  house,  and  we,  much  jaded,  were  able  to  have 
breakfast.  The  house  was  now  kept  strictly  shut 
up,  as  the  lawn  was  still  studded  with  the  tent  flies 
of  the  regiment  encamped  titers.  If  a  door  was 
opened  for  a  moment,  a  soldier  would  walk  in,  and 
it  was  as  much  as  mother  could  do  to  get  him  out 
again. 

We  kept  almost  entirely  upstairs,  taking  all  of  our 
meals  there,  and  in  constant  dread  of  making  any 
noise.  One  man  said  to  mother,  "The  General 
thinks  that  your  husband  is  hidden;  he  does  not 
believe  that  he  is  not  here." 

In  this  extremity  a  kind-looking  Irish  soldier 
came  to  our  aid  and  promised  that  we  should  be 
protected  if  it  "cost  him  his  life;'  and  that  he  would 
bring  a  friend  with  him,  who  would  spend  the  night 
in  the  shed  room,  "to  be  handy,  if  needed."  This 
kind  friend,  McManus,  proved  his  Irish  blood  by 
bringing  the  most  villainous  specimen  of  a  man  we 
had  yet  seen,  and  whispering  to  mother  that  "sure 
he  had  no  confidence  in  him  at  all." 

We  were  much  taken  aback  at  McManus's  friend's 
appearance,  but  relieved  when  the  chaplain  of  the 
regiment  came  up  and  asked  to  be  allowed  to  sleep 
in  the  house. 


SOME    WAR-TIME   LETTERS  115 

Our  servants  behaved  admirably  and  themselves 
provided  and  served  our  meals  with  unfailing  regu- 
larity, and  managed  to  give  us  many  little  treats, 
which  we  suspected  came  from  the  United  States 
commissariat.  Mother  hopes  that  she  may  be  able 
to  get  us  to  the  city  in  safety,  for  our  position  here 
is  very  unprotected  and  we  wish  to  get  possession  of 
our  house  in  the  city  before  it  falls  into  the  hands  of 
the  Freedmen's  Bureau. 

I  place  this   letter   in   the  hands   of  ,   who 

promises  to  get  it  through  the  lines,  and  I  trust  it 
will  reach  you. 

Charleston,  March  14,  1865. 

I  hope  my  last  safely  reached  you,  and  I  know 
you  feel  anxious  about  us,  so  I  will  get to  smug- 
gle this  through  the  lines.  You  will  be  relieved  to 
know  that  we  are  once  more  in  our  house  in  Charles- 
ton. 

By  dint  of  mother's  representations  of  our  unpro- 
tected condition  on  the  plantation  to  the  officer  in 
command,  and  her  frequent  reminders  that  by  their 
confiscation  of  all  our  animals  and  destruction  of 
our  vehicles  we  had  been  deprived  of  all  means  of 
transporting  ourselves  to  the  city,  she  obtained  trans- 
portation. 

As  soon  as  the  Northeastern  Railroad  was  put  in 
running  order,  which  was  within  a  few  days  after 
Charleston  was  evacuated,  the  major  informed  us 


116  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

that  we  might  ride  down  in  a  box-car.  He  also 
gave  us  permission  to  carry  in  the  car  whatever 
household  goods  we  could. 

It  was  hard  to  choose  from  the  accumulation  of 
years  what  furniture  to  take  with  us.  as  we  knew 
that  all  that  was  left  would  be  stolen,  our  presence 
only  having  kept  out  the  vagrant  negroes  and  camp 
followers,  who,  we  heard  from  the  servants,  com- 
plained very  much  that  our  house  had  not  been 
gutted  as  had  others  in  the  neighborhood.  We  had 
a  very  short  time  for  choosing,  as  we  had  notice 
only  in  the  afternoon,  that  we  must  be  off  in  the 
morning.  Mother  had  a  time  among  us,  as  each 
had  something"  very  untransportable,  which,  to  quote 
dear  Aunt  Anna,  "it  would  be  sacrilege  to  leave." 

I  fought  hard  for  all  the  books  and  the  old  sofa, 
which  had  been  in  the  house  since  the  Revolution, 
and  was  said  to  have  been  Washington's  favorite 
seat  when  he  visited  the  plantation  in  1791  ;  but  I 
had  to  content  myself  with  only  the  books  that  I 
could  get  into  a  trunk,  and  when  our  friendly  Irish 
soldier,  McManus,  who  volunteered  to  help  us  move 
the  things,  seized  our  valued  sofa  to  hoist  it  into 
the  car,  it  proved  its  antiquity  by  breaking  in  pieces. 
I  could  have  cried  over  the  loss,  but  mother  said, 
"This  is  no  time  for  sentiment ;  it  has  served  from 
one  Revolution  to  be  wrecked  in  another." 

The  last  night  we  spent  at  the  plantation  was  truly 
forlorn.  The  servants  warned  us  to  expect  an  attack 
from  some  vagrant  negroes,  who  had  come  from  the 


SOME    WAR-TIME   LETTERS  117 

up-country,  and  were  roving  about,  as  Maum  Mar- 
tha expressed  it,  "free  till  dey  fool,"  robbing  and 
destroying,  unchecked  by  the  authorities. 

We  asked  the  officer  in  command  to  give  us  a 
guard  for  the  night,  but  he  refused;  so  mother  de- 
cided that  we  must  spend  the  night  together  in  the 
parlor.  The  men  servants  promised  to  watch  out- 
side, and  both  Fanny  and  Rachel  begged  to  be  al- 
lowed to  stay  with  us  in  the  house.  You  may  imag- 
ine that  it  was  a  weary  vigil,  as  none  of  us  slept, 
and  we  put  out  the  light,  fearing  lest  it  might  guide 
some  evil-doer. 

Paul,  Quash  and  Jack  walked  around  the  house 
by  turns  all  night ;  and  I  am  sure  that  it  was  owing 
to  their  faithful  watchfulness  that  the  dawn  found 
us  unmolested. 

At  an  early  hour  Maum  Martha  brought  in  a  nice 
breakfast,  and  with  some  pride  told  us  that  one  of 
the  officers  had  seen  her  preparing  it  and  had  ex- 
pressed surprise ;  but  she  had  told  him  that  she  was 
from  an  old  Congo  family  herself,  an'  no  upstart 
free  nigger;  for  since  Maussa's  family  came  from 
France,  and  hers  from  Africa,  they  had  been  to- 
gether for  five  generations.  "An'  so  long  as  I's  in 
de  kitchen  I  knew  what's  proper  to  be  sent  in  de 
house,  even  if  I  hab  to  scurry  to  get  it." 

Quash,  Fanny,  and  Rachel  came  with  us  to  the 
city,  but  Maum  Martha  and  Paul  were  left  behind 
in  their  home. 


118  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

With  difficulty  we  got  in  to  the  dirty  box-car,  and 
Aunt  May  had  quilted  into  her  skirts  many  papers 
for  safe-keeping  and  around  her  shoulders  had  her 
valuable  cashmere  shawl  sewed  under  a  black  one, 
all  of  which  weighted  her  down  so  that  she  fell,  and 
frightened  us  much  by  her  inability  to  rise. 

We  picked  her  up  and  were  thankful  that  she 
was  not  hurt,  and  had  been  kept  from  getting  up 
only  by  her  entourage. 

At  the  station  in  Charleston  we  first  heard  of 
the  burning  of  Columbia  and  while  we  were  waiting 
for  a  carriage  the  officer  in  command  of  the  guard 
kept  dinning  into  our  ears  that  General  Hampton  had 
burned  that  city,  which  assertion  mother  firmly  con- 
tradicted, persistently  saying  that  General  Sherman 
had  done  it. 

We  were  much  afraid  that  we  would  find  our 
house  taken  by  the  Freedmen's  Bureau,  or  by  some 
officers  for  a  residence,  but  happily  neither  was  the 
case.  But  we  found  that  nearly  all  the  furniture 
had  been  stolen,  and  were  thankful  to  have  the  few 
pieces  that  we  had  brought  from  the  plantation. 

As  it  was  on  Saturday  that  we  came  down  all  of 
our  things  had  to  be  left  in  the  station  until  Monday, 
and  then  when  Quash  went  for  them  he  found  that 
the  military  gentry  (?)  had  taken  from  among  them 
whatever  they  wanted. 

All  the  furniture  that  we  found  in  the  house  was 
an  old  table  and  a  very  large  book-case,  and  my 
only  bed  thus  far  has  been  a  mosquito  net  spread  on 
the  floor. 


SOME   WAR-TIME   LETTERS  119 

On  Sunday  afternoon  mother  and  Aunt  May  went 
to  see  Cousin  M.,  who  is  very  ill,  and  while  Annie 
and  I  remained  with  Aunt  Anna,  who  was  resting 
on  her  mattress  on  the  floor,  Rachel  came  rushing 
up  stairs,  saying,  "Oh,  mam,  some  officers  say  they 
want  this  house  and  have  come  to  take  it ;  they 
are  coming  up  into  the  dining-room  now." 

I  at  once  said,  "We  must  go  down  and  meet 
them,"  and  calling  to  Annie  to  put  the  few  spoons 
that  were  out  at  once  in  her  pocket,  we  each  gave 
Aunt  Anna  an  arm  and  went  down,  followed  by 
Rachel. 

I  must  say  I  felt  much  agitated  at  the  thought  of 
what  we  might  encounter,  and  dreaded  for  our  old 
aunt,  who  seemed  much  unnerved. 

As  we  entered  the  dining-room  by  one  door  a 
naval  officer  came  in  by  the  other,  advancing  with  a 
calm  air  of  possession. 

I  was  just  going  to  speak  when  Aunt  Anna  as- 
tounded us  by  saying,  in  the  kindest  tones,  "Why, 
Edmund  !  how  is  your  mother  ?" 

We  thought  her  bereft  of  reason,  but  the  effect 
upon  the  officer  was  instantaneously  overwhelming. 
He  staggered  and  exclaimed,  "Good  God  !  Miss  J — , 
is  it  you?  You  shall  not  be  molested,"  and  turning 
quickly,  left  the  house  without  giving  her  a  chance 
to  say  another  word. 

It  seems  that  Aunt  Anna  had  instantly  recognized 
him  as  the  son  of  an  old  and  dear  friend  in  New 


120  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

York,  and  upon  the  return  of  mother  and  Aunt  May 
the  unlooked-for  occurrence  was  fully  discussed. 

Aunt  was  much  commended  for  recognizing  him 
and  we  hope  that  her  recognition  will  stand  us  in 
good  stead,  as  we  know  that  Lieutenant  Henry  is  a 
gentleman,  and  on  account  of  the  warm  friendship 
that  has  existed  for  so  many  years  between  our  old 
aunts  and  the  elder  members  of  his  family  he  will 
probably  use  any  influence  he  may  have  with  the 
authorities  in  our  favor. 

The  next  day  another  naval  officer  called  at  the 
house  and  asked  to  see  mother,  whom  he  told  that 
he  had  had  the  pleasure,  previous  to  the  war,  of 
serving  with  those  of  our  family  who  were  then 
in  the  navy,  and  although  he  had  been  blockading 
Charleston  for  many  months  he  had  promised  our 

cousin,   Lieutenant  ,    who   remained   in   the 

United  States  Navy,  that  if  he  ever  got  into  Charles- 
ton he  would  look  us  up,  and  gladly  do  what  he 
could  to  help  us. 

Mother  felt  that  in  our  present  defenseless  condi- 
tion she  should  not  refuse  any  offers  of  aid,  and 
thanked  him.  Lie  then  produced  a  copy  of  a  morn- 
ing paper,  which  contained  a  general  order  that  any 
citizen  who  desired  protection  must  put  a  United 
States  flag  on  his  house,  and  that  no  outrages  would 
be  punished  that  were  committed  on  premises  that 
did  not  contain  such  flags. 

After  reading  this  order  he  drew  from  his  pocket 
a  small  flag,  which,  he  said,  with  our  permission,  he 
would  tack  to  the  piazza. 


SOME    WAR-TIME   LETTERS  121 

Mother  politely  declined  his  offer,  but  our  aunts 
made  such  a  point  of  the  advisability  of  accepting 
it  that  she  was  induced  to  yield.  He  then  asked  me 
to  hold  the  little  staff  while  he  tacked  it  to  the  post ; 
but  I  could  not  touch  it,  and  called  to  his  assistance 
a  little  negro  girl,  as  more  appropriate,  who  stood 
staring  in  at  the  gate,  and  she  held  it  for  him. 

Annie  looked  on  quietly  and  said  nothing,  but  at 
night,  after  we  were  gone  to  bed,  said,  "  I  cannot 
stand  it.  I  cannot  breathe  with  that  flag  there." 
She  only  expressed  my  own  feelings,  so  we  quietly 
went  down  in  the  dark,  and  pulling  it  down,  secreted 
it. 

We  determined  to  keep  our  own  counsel,  as  we  had 
heard  only  the  day  before  of  the  arrest  and  imprison- 
ment of  a  lady  for  pulling  down  a  similar  flag,  and 
had  no  desire  to  be  martyrs,  only  we  did  not  want  it 
there.  The  next  morning,  while  we  held  our  peace, 
we  were  much  amused  at  the  excitement  of  our  aunts 
over  the  disappearance  of  the  flag,  and  their  insist- 
ing that  they  knew  it  had  been  stolen,  for  they  had 
seen  "a  man  going  down  the  street  with  one  just  like 
it." 

The  house  now  remains  as  heretofore,  undecorated. 

Captain  Mayo,  our  naval  friend,  has  just  come  to 
inform  mother  that  orders  have  been  issued  by  the 
commanding  general  that  we  all  must  go  up  King 
street  tomorrow  morning,  and  take  the  oath  of 
allegiance  to  the  United  States.  She  positively 
refused,  but  Captain  Mayo  says  that  in  case  of  non- 


122  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

compliance  we  will  all  have  to  leave  the  city  at  once. 
I  am  at  a  loss  to  imagine  what  grounds  the  authori- 
ties have  for  fear  of  us,  as  helpless  a  party  of  five 
ladies  as  can  be  found,  the  eldest  being  81,  and  the 
youngest  16;  but  we  must  decide  today,  and  unless 
you  see  us,  if  we  are  actually  turned  out,  I  will  write 
you  of  the  result  in  another  letter. 

Charleston,  March  17,  1865. 

Day  before  yesterday  Captain  Mayo  returned  and 
informed  us  that  the  orders  had  been  modified,  so 
that  if  we  desired,  only  the  oath  of  neutrality  would 
be  required. 

We  had  never  before  heard  of  such  an  oath  being- 
required  of  helpless  women,  but  we  were  willing  to 
compromise  under  the  circumstances.  So  as  there 
was  not  the  smallest  chance  of  our  ever  being  of  any 
service  again  to  the  Confederate  cause,  we  announced 
our  willingness  to  declare  ourselves  neutral  if  the 
United  States  Government  thought  it  important. 

Aunt  Anna  said  her  81  years  rendered  her  utterly 
unable  to  walk  as  far  as  the  provost  marshal's  office 
and  asked  if  the  commandant  thought  her  neutrality 
of  importance  would  he  send  an  officer  to  the  house 
to  administer  the  oath?     This  was  done. 

Aunt  May,  having  in  view  the  new  regulation, 
which  prohibited  the  delivery  of  letters  through  the 
post-office  to  any  one  who  had  not  taken  the  oath  of 


SOME    WAR-TIME   LETTERS  123 

allegiance,  and  having  her  daughter  in  New  York, 
from  whom  she  was  anxious  to  hear,  said  tremblingly 
that  she  would  take  the  oath  of  allegiance. 

Captain  Mayo's  manner  to  her  immediately 
changed,  and  became  very  cordial,  as  he  said  he 
would  go  and  notify  the  provost  marshal  and  come 
back  for  us,  whom  he  had  already  offered  to 
accompany. 

We  retired  to  our  room  to  make  ourselves  present- 
able for  the  streets,  as  we  had  not  been  out  of  the 
house  since  we  came  down  from  the  plantation ;  and 
Annie  and  I  changed  our  homespun  dresses  for  our 
black  and  put  on,  with  lurking  feelings  of  satisfac- 
tion, our  bonnets,  for  which  we  had  paid  the  milliner, 
only  a  few  months  before,  $150  each.  We  felt  that 
our  enemies  would  be  impressed  with  the  fact  that 
we  were  quite  within  the  circle  of  the  fashionable 
world,  and  really  when  we  appeared  Captain  Mayo 
seemed  quite  struck ;  but  we  did  not  then  imagine  the 
reason. 

He  courteously  offered  his  arm  to  Aunt  May,  who 
took  it  with  a  deep  sigh,  and  we,  leaving  Aunt  Anna 
to  Rachel's  care,  followed  them  to  the  provost 
marshal's  office,  where  we  had  reason  to  be  glad  of 
Captain  Mayo's  escort,  as  the  sidewalk  in  front  of 
the  office  and  the  doorway  were  thronged  with  idle 
negroes,  who  would  have  made  themselves  very 
offensive  if  they  had  not  seen  us  escorted  by  a  United 
States  officer. 


124  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

As  we  entered,  Captain  Mayo  said  to  us  in  a  low 
tone,  "The  oath  will  be  administered  to  you  ladies 
by  a  member  of  one  of  the  best  families  of  Boston," 
to  which  Annie  replied,  "Don't  you  think  that  he 
might  be  better  employed?" 

Of  this  the  captain  took  no  notice  as  he  led  the 
party  to  the  middle  of  a  room,  where  we  stood  the 
attraction  of  many  curious  eyes.  The  officer  at  the 
table  came  forward  and  asked  which  of  the  ladies 
desired  to  take  the  oath  of  allegiance,  whereupon 
Aunt  May,  looking  very  conscious,  moved  forward 
and  tremblingly  held  up  her  hand,  but  she  was  so 
agitated  that  she  could  scarcely  murmur  her  assent 
and  sign  her  name  to  the  iron-clad  oath. 

When  she  had  finished  Captain  Mayo  congratu- 
lated her  upon  her  renewed  loyalty,  but  much  to  his 
chagrin  she  replied,  "I  only  did  it  so  that  I  could  get 
my  letters  from  the  post-office  ;  but  I  had  not  idea  that 
the  oath  contained  such  dreadful  sentiments ;  please 
let  me  scratch  out  my  name  and  take  the  oath  of 
neutrality  instead." 

At  this  the  provost  marshal  remarked,  "Madam, 
do  you  not  realize  the  sanctity  of  an  oath,  or  do  you 
desire  to  take  all  the  oaths?" 

Mother  and  Annie  calmly  took  oaths  of  neutrality, 
and  when  my  turn  came  and  I  stepped  forward  to 
swear  neutrality  to  the  United  States,  it  appeared  to 
be  the  crowning   farce   of   the   day.     The   officers 


SOME    WAR-TIME   LETTERS  125 

present  seemed  to  be  impressed  with  the  absurdity  of 
the  thing  and  could  not  control  their  countenances, 
and  smiled  as  I  stood  before  them. 

As  we  sadly  walked  away  we  passed  several 
Northern  women  and  observed  that  they  all  wore 
bonnets  not  much  larger  than  our  hands,  while  our 
bonnets  that  we  had  thought  so  much  of,  with  their 
lofty  fronts,  could  be  compared  to  nothing  more 
truly  than  the  tower  of  Pisa.  We  could  not  resist 
the  idea  that  the  oddity  of  our  appearance  must  have 
led  them  to  imagine  that  we  had  just  come  out  of 
the  ark. 

Upon  our  arrival  at  home  Annie  and  I  at  once  set 
about  cutting  down  our  bonnets  and  drawing  in  and 
changing  the  shape  of  our  skirts,  but  mother  was 
very  unsympathetic  and  said  she  could  not  imagine 
why  we  wished  to  look  like  Yankee  women. 

Annie  and  I  witnessed  a  sickening  sight  yesterday 
when  we  were  out  on  the  street  for  a  few  moments. 
A  handsome  large  dog  was  being  chased  by  some 
negro  soldiers,  one  of  whom  dashed  out  its  brains 
with  the  butt  of  a  rifle  almost  on  to  our  skirts.  We 
were  dreadfully  agitated,  and  upon  mentioning  the 
matter  to  Captain  Mayo,  he  informed  us  that  all  dogs 
must  have  licenses  or  be  killed.  I  was  much  dis- 
tressed at  the  danger  of  losing  my  pet  Cora,  but 
Captain  Mayo  offered  to  obtain  a  license  free  for 
her  if  I  would  accept  it,  and  as  we  did  not  have  $1.50 
to  pay  for  it,  we  accepted  his  kind  offer,  so  Cora  is 
now  protected. 


126  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

Yesterday  mother  received  notice  that  a  war  tax 
had  been  levied  upon  all  real  estate,  and  that  it  must 
be  paid  within  thirty  days.  Our  tax  amounts  to 
$180,  and  for  our  lives  we  cannot  conceive  where 
the  money  is  coming  from  to  pay  it,  as  we  have  only 
one  gold  dollar  among  us,  but  little  provisions,  and 
only  two  of  our  cows  that  were  smart  enough  to 
escape  into  the  woods  when  the  others  of  the 
herd  were  slaughtered  at  the  plantation  by  General 
Potter's  troops. 

Mother  was  greatly  troubled  about  the  necessity 
of  raising  the  money,  and  seeing  an  advertisement  in 
the  paper  that  old  china  and  handsome  pieces  of  glass 
would  be  bought  by  a  Bostonian  for  relics,  sent  an 
answer  to  the  address  and  this  morning  took  from 
the  trunk  some  of  our  best  pieces  we  had  saved  and 
set  them  upon  our  only  table  in  readiness  for  the 
purchaser. 

While  we  were  at  dinner  two  very  unattractive 
citizens  of  Boston  presented  themselves,  who  after 
looking  at  the  articles,  declined  to  purchase  and 
instead  offered  themselves  as  boarders,  saying  that 
they  had  come  to  Charleston  to  open  a  grocery  house 
and  would  be  willing  to  pay  their  board  in  provisions. 
Of  course  this  arrangement  was  promptly  declined, 
but  we  were  very  much  disheartened  that  our  first 
effort  to  raise  the  money  for  the  tax  had  proved  such 
a  failure. 

I  give  you  a  copy  of  the  oath  of  neutrality  I  had 
to  take;  it  is  such  a  farce. 


SOME    WAR-TIME    LETTERS  127 

"Headquarters  Northern  District  Department  South. 
"Provost  Marshal's  Office,  No.  35  King  Street, 

"Charleston,  S.  C,  March  15,  1865. 

"I  do  hereby  certify  on  honor  that  on  the  15th  day 
of  March,  1865,  at  Charleston,  S.  C,  the  oath  of 
neutrality  to  the  United  States  of  America  was  duly 
taken,  subscribed  and  made  matter  of  record  of  by 
Miss  Marion  Porcher. 

"Thomas  L.  Appleton, 

Captain    Fifty-fourth    Massachusetts     Volunteers, 
Provost  Marshal,  N.  D.  D.  S." 


TAY— A  STORY  OF  A  MAUMA 

One  day  some  time  ago,  while  turning-  over  the 
contents  of  an  old  trunk,  which  had  been  mine  since 
childhood,  had  followed  me  in  innumerable  moves, 
and  contained  the  odds  and  ends  full  of  associations 
as  life  goes  on,  I  came  to  a  pair  of  half-moon  ear- 
rings ;  they  were  very  large,  and  of  old  gold.  "Oh !" 
I  exclaimed,  as  I  looked  at  them,  "these  bring  Tay 
back  to  the  life." 

My  little  girls,  who  had  been  looking  on,  eager- 
eyed,  for  mamma's  old  trunk  had  always  possessed 
a  mysterious  charm  for  Floy,  and  Grace,  enhanced 
since  some  years  previous,  when,  after  I  had  given 
up  the  idea  of  having  new  cloaks  for  them  for  the 
winter,  I  chanced  to  see  an  advertisement  for  Con- 
federate bonds,  and  succeeded  in  finding  enough  of 
these  in  my  old  trunk  to  supply  the  needed  cloaks, 
and  also  other  things. 

"Who  was  Tay?"  they  both  exclaimed.  I  felt  a 
sense  of  self-reproach  at  the  question ;  and  I  am  sure 
to  Tay  herself  the  idea  that  one  of  her  'chillun's  chil- 
lun"  could  have  reached  the  mature  age  of  ten  years 
and  never  had  heard  of  her  existence  would  have 


TAY  129 

seemed  incredible.  It  was  not  from  any  lack  of 
kindly  recollection  of  the  old  woman  that  I  had  not 
told  the  children  of  her;  but  my  life  had  been  a  busy 
one,  with  many  invalid  times,  when  the  reverses  of 
life  pressed  heavily,  and  I  shrank  from  speaking  vol- 
untarily of  my  childhood  days,  which  had  been  so 
different  from  theirs ;  and  besides  the  children  of  the 
South  today,  whose  mothers  were  half-grown  girls 
at  the  time  of  emancipation,  belong  to  a  new  order 
of  things,  and  are  out  of  sympathy  with  their  parents 
on  many  subjects.  They  do  not  understand  their 
elders'  feelings  toward  the  negroes.  They  regard 
them  with  very  impartial  eyes,  and  see  them  as  they 
are  today.  And  as  the  succession  of  careless,  ignor- 
ant cooks  and  housemaids  come  and  go  they  cannot 
understand  the  kind  allowances  made  for  their  faults 
by  those  who  remember  the  tender  nursing  of  the 
dear  old  maumas.     But  to  return  to  Tay. 

"Who  was  Tay?"  I  repeated.  "Why,  one  of  the 
best  of  women;  and  it  is  high  time  you  should  hear 
about  her,  and  love  her  memory.  So  if  you  will  get 
your  knitting  and  sit  very  quite  I  will  tell  you  her 
story. 

"Her  name  was  Kitty,  but  we  children  always 
called  her  Tay.  When  your  grandmother  was  mar- 
ried Tay  was  given  to  her  as  her  maid ;  and  a  most 
accomplished  one  she  was,  besides  being  a  skilled 
seamstress,  and  clear  starcher.  A  younger  woman 
had  taken  her  place  as  maid  when  I  first  remember 
her,  and  she  was  the  upper  servant,  always  carrying 


13C  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

the  keys,  and  taking  charge  of  the  household,  when 
your  grandmother  was  ill  or  absent.  She  was  at 
least  six  feet  tall ;  her  waist  claimed  nearly  half 
her  length,  or  looked  as  if  it  did.  She  was  quite 
light-colored,  with  large  black  eyes  that  looked  as 
if  a  millstone  would  be  no  obstacle  to  her  vision.  I 
assure  you  her  appearance  was  calculated  to  inspire 
awe  in  our  breasts.  Her  great  height  was  of  itself 
impressive,  and  made  more  so  by  her  costume.  She 
usually  wore  a  black  frock  with  a  very  tight  body, 
and  full  skirt ;  and  an  enormous  bustle,  such  as  was 
not  worn  in  those  days ;  a  white  hankerchief  over 
her  shoulders,  pinned  across  her  bosom ;  a  white 
apron ;  and  to  cap  the  climax  a  very  stiffly  starched 
white  turban  (all  the  worn  muslin  dresses  of  the  fam- 
ily went  to  keep  up  the  supply).  She  always  tied 
her  turbans  on  a  block  to  shape  them,  and  stuffed  a 
newspaper  in  the  top  to  keep  the  shape ;  and  when 
she  finally  put  one  on  her  head  the  effect  was  tre- 
mendous. Her  pride  in  gold  earrings  was  great. 
She  always  wore  them,  and  kept  them  as  shiny  as 
could  be.  With  the  basket  of  keys  on  her  arm,  she 
would  look  like  a  person  not  to  be  trifled  with,  nor 
did  we  ever  so  venture.  Her  devotion  to  us  all  was 
very  great — 'Miss,  Maussa,  an'  de  chillun'  bounded 
her  horizon.  Her  idea  was  to  economize;  'for 
Maussa,'  she  would  say,  'is  so  freehanded,  an'  six 
chillun  is  a  houseful'  " 

"To  us  children  she  showed  her  regard  by  great 
sternness  of  demeanor,  but  compensated  by  the  beau- 


TAY  131 

tiful  tucking  she  did  on  our  dresses — the  only  sew- 
ing she  ever  did.  And  your  grandmother  had  no 
respite  until  she  supplied  the  material  Tay  thought 
necessary.  Your  grandmother  was  so  sure  of  her 
trustworthiness  that  she  never  interfered  with  her 
management.  We  never  thought  of  remonstrating, 
although  she  mortified  us  sometimes  by  her  treat- 
ment of  our  friends.  She  had  no  patience  with  too 
many  visitors,  (and  always  presided  at  our  tea,  serv- 
ing us  with  our  cups  of  milk,  and  bread  and  treacle. 
We  had  some  little  friends  who  were  very  apt  to  run 
in  just  at  the  tea  hour.  Once,  when  they  came 
steadily  for  a  week,  we  saw  clouds  gathering  on 
Tay's  brow,  and  were  not  surprised  when,  one  even- 
ing after  she  had  helped  us  all,  she  turned  to  our 
friends  and  said  :  'To-morrow,  take  yo'  supper  befo' 
you  come.  Maussa  cyan't  affo'd  to  support  two  fami- 
lies.'   This  broke  up  our  tea  parties. 

"Tay  had  a  husband  as  remarkable  in  his  way  as 
she  was  in  hers.  He  was  taller  than  she,  slim,  and 
very  black;  and  was  a  very  prosperous  negro.  He 
belonged  to  two  maiden  ladies,  and  lived  a  very  inde- 
pendent life,  free  from  care.  He  was  a  cooper  by 
trade,  and  in  his  own  shop  plied  his  calling  on  his 
own  account,  only  every  quarter  bringing  his  owners 
his  set  wages.  And  whenever  illness  or  trouble  of 
any  kind  overtook  him,  to  his  owners  he  came  for 
care  or  protection.  He  finally  concluded  to  buy  his 
freedom,  and  asked  your  grandfather  to  become  his 
guardian,  as  required  by  the  law,  if  he  could  accom- 


132  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

plish  his  purpose.  He  also  asked  him  to  be  so  kind 
as  to  ask  his  owners  what  they  would  take  for  him. 
Your  grandfather  saw  the  ladies,  who  fixed  as  mod- 
erate a  price  as  they  could ;  and  when  he  told  Daddy 
Sam  the  result  of  his  negotiations,  instead  of  being 
gratified,  he  was  angry,  and  said  :  'My  mistresses  has 
no  idea  how  valuable  I  is.  I  t'ought  dey  would  ask 
'bout  $300  mo'.  Dey  can't  affo'd  to  part  wid  me  fer 
less,  an'  I  means  to  pay  it.'  The  ladies  were  not 
obdurate,  and  no  doubt  had  an  increased  idea  of 
Daddy  Sam's  value. 

"This  worthy  pair  had  no  children ;  and  Daddy 
Sam  died  not  long  before  the  war,  leaving  Tay  quite 
a  little  sum  of  money.  He  had  offered  to  buy  her 
freedom  for  her,  but  she  did  not  desire  it.  I  remem- 
ber that  when  he  died  she  took  off  her  turban  when 
she  went  to  church,  and  donned  a  gigantic  crape  veil. 
One  day  she  came  home  very  angry.  She  had  met 
some  sportsmen  going  hunting,  who  had  begged  her 
to  go  along  with  them  as  a  ramrod,  as  they  had  lost 
theirs ! 

"When  the  war  began  she  was  very  unhappy. 
There  is  no  doubt  that  at  that  period  there  was  a 
feeling  of  expectation  and  disaffection  among  the 
negroes ;  but  Tay  was  of  a  thoroughly  loyal  nature, 
and  had  no  sympathy  with  the  negro  character,  and 
understood  it  entirely;  and  their  meaner  traits  were 
revolting  to  her. 

"One  day  in  the  early  part  of  1861,  she  came  as 
usual  after  breakfast  to  consult  your  grandmother 


TAY  133 

about  the  marketing  that  had  been  sent  home.  She 
had  such  a  funny  way  of  describing  the  pieces ;  she 
always  involuntarily  touched  the  part  of  her  frame 
she  was  supposed  to  be  designating,  of  mutton,  or 
lamb.  I  was  a  light-hearted  child  then,  and  many  a 
hearty  laugh  have  I  had  at  Tay's  expense,  as  she 
would  touch  her  leg,  or  shoulder,  or  even  her  head 
if  a  calf's  head  were  in  question.  But  to  return  to 
this  day.  She  must  have  heard  some  talk  among  the 
negroes,  for  after  she  had  got  through  her  business, 
she  lingered  and  said  to  her  mistress,  'O  Miss,  I've 
had  an  awful  dream.'  Your  grandmother  spoke 
kindly  to  her,  and  asked  her  what  it  was.  The  faith- 
ful creature  sat  on  the  floor,  and  looking  up  into  our 
faces  she  said : 

"I  dreamed  we  was  all  in  confusion  an'  dere 
was  a  big  crowd,  an'  Maussa  was  sick,  an'  you  all 
looked  very  sad,  an'  you  all  was  dressed  common; 
but  dere  was  heaps  of  niggers  'round,  but  dey  was 
all  a-runnin'  'round,  an'  a-kickin'  up  a  noise ;  an'  deir 
arms  in  deir  kimbos,  an'  not  one  a-workin' ;  and  you 
all  called  for  some  water,  an'  not  one  went  to  git  it, 
but  I  ran  for  it,  an'  I  said,  'O  Miss,  you  has  been  a 
good  frien'  to  me,  an'  sometimes  a  bottom  rail  is 
more  use  dan  a  same  quality  one;  an'  so  long  as 
Kitty  is  here  dere  will  always  be  somethin'  between 
you  an'  the  groun.'  And  she  burst  into  tears  and  left 
the  room. 

"Your  grandmother  said,  'She  has  had  no  dream. 
She  wished  to  show  us  what  is  in  her  heart.' 


134  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

"Ah,  children,  those  were  dreadful  days,  and 
when  in  December  Port  Royal  fell,  flight,  confusion, 
and  distress  were  the  order  of  the  day  on  the  coast. 
By  all  this  there  was  many  a  young  life  cut  short,  as 
truly  as  though  a  bullet  had  stilled  it ;  and  it  was  not 
only  the  men  who  laid  down  their  lives,  many  a  gen- 
tle girl  was  also  a  victim.  Your  grandmother  sent 
my  two  sisters  and  me  to  relatives  in  the  interior  of 
the  State.  She  remained  in  Charleston  to  look  after 
our  affairs,  intending  to  go  to  a  hospital  as  a  nurse, 
if  needed.  We  had  been  in  the  up-country  but  a  few 
days  when  your  Aunt  Lucy,  as  lovely  a  young  girl 
as  the  sun  ever  shone  on,  was  seized  with  fever.  Her 
illness  was  fatal,  and  she  died  before  her  mother 
could  reach  her. 

"When  we  left  your  grandmother  she  had  been 
obliged  to  go  to  our  country  place  on  Goose  Creek, 
where  she  had  remained  alone — the  colored  driver 
and  other  negroes  being  the  only  people  on  the  plan- 
tation. Tay  had  always  lived  in  the  city  of  Charles- 
ton, even  when  we  were  all  on  the  plantation ;  and 
she  always  had  the  care  of  the  city  house.  When  the 
direful  news  of  your  Aunt  Lucy's  illness  reached 
Charleston,  Tay  hastened  up  to  the  plantation  to 
your  grandmother,  saying : 

"  'I  wants  you  to  let  me  come  an'  live  here,  for 
anybody  c'n  do  what  I  does  in  town ;  but  der  is  a 
lot  of  talk  'bout  de  whole  low  country  will  be  took  by 
de  Yankees.  An'  de  negroes  will  have  to  go  inside, 
up  country,  an'  make  bread   while   deir  masters    is 


TAY  135 

fightin'.  Now,  Miss,  let  me  stay  up  here,  an'  keep  an 
eye,  an'  if  ciere  is  anythin'  I  c'n  do  to  keep  things 
straight,  I'm  here;  an'  if  we  has  to  leave,  I  will  go 
wid  dem,  an'  keep  dem  all  steady.' 

"Your  grandmother  consented  with,  'God  bless 
you,  Tay,'  and  at  once  left  to  go  to  your  ill  aunt. 
Tay  remained  on  the  plantation  the  whole  winter 
and  spring.  Your  grandmother  could  not  return; 
but  never  had  there  been  as  much  poultry  and  eggs 
produced,  lambs  saved,  or  butter  made  as  was  done 
under  Tay's  management.  And  the  quantity  of  veg- 
etables raised  proved  invaluable  in  those  war  times. 
And  all  was  owing  to  the  faithfulness  of  this  devot- 
ed creature  who  remained  to  encourage  the  other 
negroes. 

"When  the  summer  of  1862  came  your  grand- 
mother wrote  her  that  she  must  leave  the  plantation, 
as  she  was  unacclimated  to  that  malarial  country ;  but 
she  begged  to  stay  a  little  longer,  as  she  knew  she 
was  of  service,  and  was  quite  well.  Then  came  the 
news  that  she  was  sick.  She  had  sent  to  tell  her 
young  master,  who  was  a  naval  officer  on  duty  in 
Charleston  harbor.  He  at  once  went  to  see  her,  and 
rebuked  her  for  having  remained  so  long  in  that  un- 
healthy climate.  He  got  her  to  promise  to  leave  the 
next  day.  Finding  that  she  had  not  arrived  in  the 
city,  he  obtained  leave  of  absence  and  again  went 
after  her,  but  found  her  evidently  near  her  end. 

"  'Ah !  Massa  Paul,'  she  said,  'I  got  up  three  times 
to  go,  as  I  promised  you  I  would,  an'  de  buggy  was 
at  de  door,  an'  Martha  here  to  go   wid   me,   but   I 


136  LIFE  IN  THE  CONFEDERATE  ARMY 

fainted ;  an'  as  it  was  cle  three  times  I  know  it  is  de 
Lord's  will,  I'll  never  leave  dis  bed.  I  hope  He  will 
say.  'Kitty,  you  done  what  you  could,  an'  been  a 
faithful  servant.'  I  never  did  want  to  be  nothin'  but 
a  servant.  Dere's  plenty  of  dem  in  de  Bible  your 
Ma  gave  me;  and  if  I  c'n  just  jine  dem  I'm  happy. 
An'  now  here's  what  I  want  you'  Ma  to  have.  It's 
Sam's  little  savin's.  I  always  kep'  clem  by  me;  an' 
when  I  seen  these  war  times,  an'  such  curious-lookin' 
money  buy  so  little,  I'm  glad  I  got  it.  I  kep'  it  for  a 
pinch ;  an'  fixed  it  so  nobody  would  suspicion  it.  But 
I  thank  de  Lord  you  come  to  take  it  befor'  I  go.' 
And  with  great  effort  she  brought  from  under  her 
pillow  a  curious-looking,  homespun  undergarment, 
into  which  was  literally  quilted  coins  of  gold  and 
silver;  a  little  fortune  in  Confederate  money,  be- 
sides various  old  trinkets  and  watches  which  Sam 
had  invested  in. 

"  'My  earrin's  is  dere,'  she  said.  'I  never  wore 
dem  since  Miss  Lucy  died ;  dey  looks  too  bright. 
Now  give  this  to  you'  Ma  with  Kitty's  duty.  I  wish 
she  could  ha'  closed  my  eyes.  I  know  she  would  ha' 
done  it.  But  she  an'  de  young  ladies  will  be  sorry, 
I  know,  when  I'm  gone.' 

"And  then  with  the  flash  of  her  usual  animation 
she  turned  her  eyes  on  her  attendant,  Martha,  and 
said  :  Martha  have  my  three  trunks  of  clo'es  ;she  must 
give  them  to  Miss'.  Dey  will  keep  her  house  servants 
decent  for  a  time ;  an'  yo'  Ma  does  hate  a  sloven, 
Martha  knows.  I  will  walk  at  her  if  she  takes  any- 
thin'  out  befo'  Miss  comes.    Lord  help  me  !' 

"A  faithful  soul  gone  home." 


v--'i 


